


Wants and Needs

by Scribe_42



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:29:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe_42/pseuds/Scribe_42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur discovers Merlin's magic, and he doesn't react well.  Eventually, after Camelot is captured and saved, Arthur realizes just how much he needs and depends on Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Prologue Told in Two Parts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long story with a happy ending. Please note chapter seven contains explicit rape and humiliation. You can skip it, assume the worst had happened to Arthur, and move on to the next chapter without losing the thread of the story. The rest of the story has a lot of angst but a happy ending.

Part One

Arthur had a headache.  No matter how hard he rubbed between his eyes, his throbbing companion remained constant; from the moment he stepped into the royal hall this morning, until he marched away for luncheon.  It had sat behind his eyes, growing, while he sat listening to petty squabble after trivial complaint.  First, one noble needed Arthur’s approval to bolster his right to breed his prize mare to another lord’s stallion, then Arthur sat and listed to yet another’s request/demand that his son be accepted at court as a full knight.  All the nobles needed to be reassured that this king would continue to uphold their positions and protect their noble ‘assets’.  Arthur was tired of all the political squabbling that had NOTHING to do with keeping Camelot and its people safe.  He had to listen to the nobles complain about Arthur’s _common_ knights, as though Gwaine, Lancelot, and Elyan hadn’t proved their worth again and again.  By all the Gods, Arthur thought, Lancelot had given his life to save Camelot.  Now they wanted their ‘noble’ sons to have a higher standing within the knights.  He knew it was the right thing to do politically, but it galled him to no end that they still thought that their _noble_ blood somehow entitled them beyond their ability with a sword and the courage of a lion.  He would never compromise THAT.  A knight’s standing had to be judged not only on the strength of his arm, but now, it also depended on his moral code.  He knew the worth of the men who had stood with him in Camelot’s darkest hour, and he wouldn’t allow any noble to take what _his_ knights had rightfully been granted at that round table. 

One particularly stupid Earl had even had looked at Gwen – Queen Guinevere – as he made some snide remark about her brother the ‘Blacksmith Knight’ not daring to insult Gwen directly.  Only Gwen’s hand on his arm kept Arthur from drawing Excalibur from its sheath and showing this Earl how quickly his head could be removed from his ‘position’ at court.  But Gwen kept counseling caution.  She kept reminding Arthur how much they needed the lords and all their noble bickering.  Arthur had realized that being King meant acting part nursemaid, part tyrant.  He knew the nobles didn’t really accept him or his commoner wife.  He was too young; too untried.  They might have known he could fight, but they kept questioning whether or not he could rule.  So they kept coming after him with every petty demand to test his judgment, to test his resolve, and frankly, to test his patience, which was beginning to wear quite thin at the moment.  After only three hours of holding court, Arthur ended the session abruptly stating he needed to return to his quarters for lunch, _alone_. 

All of this was swirling through Arthur’s head as he opened the door to his chambers.

 

  


Part Two

Merlin had gotten up at the crack of dawn.  His duties, since Arthur had become King, were so much more difficult than dealing with Prince Arthur.  He still even had to perform his duties as Gaius’ apprentice, delivering potions and gathering herbs.  Merlin never dreamed he would long for the old days when the threat of the stocks was almost a daily occurrence.  Now his duties not only included the usual cleaning and maintaining Arthur’s room and armor but also organizing papers to be read at the end of the day.  Now he couldn’t just barge into Arthur’s chambers and throw open the curtains to Arthur’s muffled threats of beheading, now he had to knock and wait until he was given permission to enter.  Merlin tried very hard not to think, not to imagine, what was happening between Arthur and Gwen behind that great oaken door while he tried not to fumble with a tray, a pitcher of water, and various papers.  He was happy for Arthur.  He was happy for Gwen.  He really, really wanted everyone to be happy.  But in the cold light of the morning, as he juggled everything in his arms, he realized that everyone had fulfilled their dreams, while he still played the bumbling manservant.  The one dream he could barely acknowledge, the one secret he’d buried even deeper than his magic, was the utterly ridiculous fact that he was in love with Arthur.  He had felt his admiration change into something else, something stronger.  He knew he never had a chance with Arthur, but that didn’t stop the images, the _want_ , from breaking into his dreams at night.  He schooled himself as well as he could during the day, but at night, the images of Arthur’s long legs and strong arms entwined with his own tormented Merlin’s sleeping hours.

Now, Merlin felt as though he spent the day running from chore to chore without a moment to breathe - let alone think.  He felt frayed and tired.  Now that Arthur was King, secrets Merlin had kept hidden inside, all of his magic and all of his love, kept trying to burst through.  The irony didn’t escape him, now that Arthur had no time and no patience left at the end of the day to talk to Merlin, Merlin needed to speak with him even more.  Now, Arthur needed him to be the one constant in his life, to help him to forget and forgive all of the disappointments and betrayals that had marred the past year.  He needed Merlin’s stable presence to move on and be the greatest King of Albion Merlin knew he was destined to become.  Yet, sometimes, it was all Merlin could do, to keep all his secrets from bursting out.  His need – for Arthur to know _all_ of him, and to forgive him – was just too great a burden to place on Arthur, just when he depended on Merlin’s unquestioning loyalty the most.

These thoughts chased each other through his mind as his hands smoothed the newly laid sheets on the royal bed, while a cloth magically cleaned the stains from Arthur’s favorite blue tunic, and a brush floated midair, polishing Arthur’s breastplate in the corner.  A part of him knew he had to be especially careful using magic now that he “shared” duties with Gwen’s new maidservant Alma, but he was just too frazzled to think about what would happen if she were to walk through the door unexpectedly.  As it was, Merlin didn’t need to worry about Alma discovering how he managed to complete his chores, because just then, the door slammed open and Arthur stomped into the room.


	2. What the King Discovers

Neither could move nor say anything.  Shocked silence weighed between them like a stone.

The golden light quickly faded from Merlin’s eyes as he whispered “Arthur.  Please, just wait, please.  I can explain!”  The sound of Merlin’s voice broke across Arthur provoking a tidal wave of rage.

 “NO!!! You ??? MAGIC ? You, all this time?  NO!!” Arthur’s scream of pain and confusion tore at Merlin. 

Merlin has seen Arthur move before.  He has seen him move on the training field and in battle, but Merlin had never seen Arthur move quite so fast as he charged across the room, grabbed Merlin, and shoved him against the nearest wall, pinning Merlin across his neck with his forearm.

“Please” Merlin managed to gasp out as Arthur bore all of his considerable strength against his neck while Merlin’s toes scrabbled across the floor.

“SORCERER!!!” Arthur screamed into his face.  Merlin could feel the spittle across his cheek.

Suddenly, Merlin did something he swore he’d never do.  He used his magic _against_ Arthur.  He couldn’t breathe, or think, as his mind turned grey from lack of air, so his magic just _pushed_.  It pushed Arthur away and sent him hurtling across the room.  As Arthur crashed into the table next to the fireplace, all of the dishes come tumbling down, shattering against the cold stone floor.  The noise alerted the guards outside the door, and they began to call for their King.  Again, acting on instinct alone, his throat still burning, Merlin locked the door with a quick gesture.  His only thought was to talk to Arthur, to try to explain.  Arthur’s body coiled as he prepared to spring into action, but this time Merlin was ready, and his magic forced Arthur back to the floor.  It held Arthur down as he struggled against the invisible bonds.  Arthur felt like a puppet whose strings have been cut.  He had never felt this powerless in his entire life. 

“I never meant to use my magic like this.  I never wanted .… Please, you need to listen to me.  I’d never hurt you, I just … I know magic frightens you, but you have to believe that magic isn’t evil.  I’m not evil.  Just because I’m powerful, it doesn’t mean I’d ever use it to hurt you.  Can’t you see that?” Merlin pleaded.

Arthur couldn’t bring himself to even look at Merlin with those golden eyes full of magic.  Those eyes represented all of Arthur’s hatred and fear.  Now they glowed from the eyes of a man he had thought was his friend.

“By pinning me to the floor, you mean?  Defenseless against your magic,” Arthur spat.

“No! Yes, well … You forced me to.  I thought you were going to kill me, and I need to explain.  You need to understand, I would never hurt you Arthur.  Never.  I never want to … I only tried to protect you.  It’s my destiny to serve you and protect you, please understand!”

By now the pounding on the door had become a series of booming crashes as the guards tried to force their way through, but the enchanted door held firm.

“Oh, I understand.  You used me.  You waited, playing the idiot manservant until I became King.  You used magic for everything, like a spider spinning lies.  You needed a puppet King, and you bided your time, weaving your poison until I trusted you.  I trusted you and you've been lying to me since the moment we met.  Oh yes, I understand everything now.” Arthur spat out as he finally raised his face to look Merlin in the eyes.

The hate pouring from Arthurs eyes almost killed Merlin as he stood there, still trying to gain control of himself and his magic.  In that moment, as Merlin stared into Arthur’s eyes, that Merlin realized Arthur would never trust him again.  Merlin lost everything he ever dreamed of.  He needed to explain, but any words he could think of felt hollow.  Merlin realized Arthur that would never listen to him again.  With a sigh, he lowered his hands and felt his magic drain from the room and his body.

Suddenly, the door came crashing in and the guards came tumbling through, weapons drawn.  They looked at the King crumpled by the fireplace and then at Merlin standing by the edge of the window, and they came to a halt, not knowing what to do.  Arthur, realizing that magic no longer held him to the floor, sprang to his feet and immediately took control.

“Seize him you idiots.  Seize him.  He is a sorcerer!  Bring into the dungeon.  Use the iron shackles my father had made to bind him.” Arthur commanded.

Although the guards looked shocked and afraid, their training kicked in, and they sprang into action, grabbing Merlin by the scruff of his neck and dragging him off.  Merlin offered no resistance.  Arthur leaned against the fireplace trying to stop the pounding in his chest.  The names of everyone who betrayed him kept swirling in his head:  _Morgana — his sister, Agravaine — his uncle, Gwen — no!  Not Gwen, I need Gwen, she loves me, not Gwen too, but Lancelot yes – the man he knighted, he betrayed me.  — MERLIN._

Arthur lunged toward the bucket at the foot of his bed, and what little food and bile he had in his stomach rose through his throat and out of his mouth, as tears streamed down his cheeks.  His entire body was shuddering as though he had been caught in a violent winter storm unprotected.  He couldn't seem to get control of his body, remembering the helpless feeling as Merlin held him immobile, against his will.  He wondered just how powerful Merlin, his friend, no _—_ _that sorcerer —_ really was.


	3. What Duty Requires

Arthur arrived in the dungeon several hours later.  His eyes may have been red, but his face was stony and cold.   

“Tell me, sorcerer” Arthur spat.  “Who are you, and what do you want?”

Merlin stood in the corner of the cage covered in the magical binding chains Uther had commissioned for anyone with these powers.  Arthur remembered all of the tirades against magic his father had forced him to listen to.  All of the times he patiently explained to Arthur that a King had to be on his guard against magic users at all times.

“Speak sorcerer!  You were asked a question!” Arthur barked.

Merlin took a deep breath and tried, as calmly as he could to reach Arthur one last time.  He chose his words carefully, realizing this might be the only opportunity he had to reach Arthur.  “Magic is a tool Arthur, just like that sword you’ve got strapped to your side.  What’s important is how a person uses it, not the power itself.  That sword you’re wearing can kill a man, or it can Knight him.  Magic is the same.”

“A person?” Arthur scoffed.  “A sorcerer you mean.  Only a sorcerer could hold me against the floor, or enchant my armor.  I saw you using magic on my armor, even before my father’s reign, to enter a tournament with enchanted weaponry was forbidden.  You knew this.  You knew magic was forbidden here before you ever stepped foot in Camelot, so why would you come here?  What did you want here?  Tell me, have you enchanted anything else? Have you used magic on me?”

“Arthur, I, well, umm, yes, I’ve used magic, but never to harm you.  Well, maybe that first day when you came after me with that mace, but I’ve never tried to hurt you Arthur.  You have to believe me.” 

“Believe the word of a sorcerer?” Arthur sneered.

"I only ever tried to protect you.” Merlin protested his anger rising despite his earlier resolve.




“Do you think I like lying, hiding who I am too everyone I care about?  Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to tell you, I tried to tell you?  But you never listen!  You’re still the same prat I met in the market place!  Listen to me!  How could I tell you when every time you’ve seen magic, you attack them with your sword?  You’re Uther’s son.  I hoped, I prayed that one day, when you were King, that maybe you’d realize … but no, since I’ve known you, whenever you say _magic_ , you make it sound like a curse.” 

“Since anyone with magic has been trying to kill me, I think I know just what magic does!” Arthur yelled back.

“Not everyone.  Not ME!” Merlin shouted.  Arthur took a step back and looked at Merlin with cold eyes.

“Oh, my mistake.  That little stunt you pulled back in my room, where you held me on the floor AGAINST MY WILL?  That wasn’t wrong?  If I’ve learned anything about magic is that it corrupts.  It’s not as though I can believe a word you say.  You’ve played the bumbling manservant so well; I actually believed you were my friend.  I protected you! And all this time you must have been laughing at me.  The Great Powerful Sorcerer, controlling the Crown Prince.  You had me wrapped around your finger, didn’t you?”  Suddenly Arthur realized, “that wasn’t Will who created that windstorm in Ealdor, was it?  It was you all along.  You left _your friend_ to die branded a sorcerer.   Magic corrupts, you proved that today!”

“Yes, I know I was wrong, but I did it to protect you, to make you listen …”

“No!” Arthur interrupted “Will gave his life for me, not you.  You just performed magic to protect your mother and your village.  And then you _lied_ to me, again.   How many tournaments did you interfere in?  How many times did you interfere with my duties, hmm?  Tell me Merlin, look me in the eyes and tell me you _never_ caused any harm to Camelot.”  

“I… I can’t.  I’ve made mistakes, but I never meant to ….” Merlin cried.

“Mistakes? What kind of mistakes Merlin?  How many people have you hurt with your _mistakes_?” Arthur shouted.

“I, I – The dragon, I had to fulfill my promised to free him from the caves, but I didn’t know he would ….”

“THE DRAGON!” Arthur roared.  “You unleashed the dragon upon Camelot?  Do you know how many knights, how many good people, died because you chose to protect another dangerous magical beast? Are there any more Merlin?  Who else have you hurt?”

"I .. I never wanted… “




“Wanted? What exactly _do_ you want sorcerer? To protect me, you say?  By lying to me since the day we met?  How many lies have you already told to hide who you really are?”  Arthur paused.  “Tell me, were you lying when you told me that magic was evil?  That my mother’s life wasn’t taken by magic? Tell me the truth sorcerer.  Which is it – what you said then - or should I believe you now? Now that you’re cornered in a dungeon and held with chains that prevent you from enchanting me with more of your lies!” spittle flew from Arthurs lips as he screamed at Merlin, who stood shaking in the far corner of the tiny cell.

“I believed you.  I actually believed you were my friend.  But now...” Arthur trailed off.  He shook himself, then straightened his shoulders and pronounced: “You’ve done your job well.  I spent so many years believing you were my only true friend; that you cared about me …. Everyone I have ever trusted has let me down, except for you.  I thought you were the one person I knew.  The one person, in all of Camelot….” He said wistfully, but then he straightened his shoulders and regained his composure.

“And now I have to decide what to do with you.  We both have seen just how much magic corrupts.  You attacked the King with magic.  That is an automatic death sentence.  Under the law my father set down you must die.” Arthur declared.

“Your father’s blind hatred of magic is what caused all of this!  You’ve only seen magic used against you, because it’s illegal for anyone to use it for good.” Merlin protested.  “You can’t even accept that it _can_ be used for good.  Uther taught you that magic corrupts.  Well, magic doesn’t corrupt, power does.  If anyone is the proof of that, it’s your father!”

“MY FATHER WAS A GREAT MAN!!!!”  Arthur roared losing his composure again.  “He defended this city with his life.  Camelot was in chaos until he banned magic.  The people loved him!”  Arthur stepped forward trying to gain control of himself again, trying to remember that he was King here.  “Maybe you have used your magic to help me become King, but you will never control me now that I am.  I am King here, and I make the law, not you.” Arthur pronounced.  He took a deep breath, trying not to remember all of the times Merlin had fought by his side, trying to remain merciful, he finally decided.

“I know, for the safety of the kingdom, I should order your execution right now, but I cannot find it in myself to kill you.  However, I can’t stand look at you _traitor_.  You will leave Camelot and return upon pain of death.  That is my decision.  Run Merlin.  Run, and never stop.  If you’re still here by dawn, I’ll light the pyre myself, so run.  You have no place here anymore.  I never want to see you, or hear of you, or even think of you again.  You are hereby banished,” Arthur decreed, his voice shaking with venom.

Arthur leaned towards Merlin, who still stood against the wall trembling, and removed the magical restraints.  Merlin felt his magic return with a huge wave, and suddenly his eyes blazed golden.  Arthur leaped back, Excalibur in his hand, and readied for attack.  But the glow in Merlin’s eyes faded as his body slumped forward. 

“Please,” Merlin croaked.

“No.” Arthur’s voice hardened.  “Leave.  Leave now, and never return.  GUARDS! Escort him to the gates.  Make sure he leaves.”  He turned and stalked out of the dungeons leaving the guards to drag Merlin to the gates.

_________________________

As Arthur stalked through the corridors towards his chambers, he saw Gaius standing beside a wall leaning heavily on a column, as though his entire body would collapse any moment.

“Is it true Sire?” He asked.  “Has Merlin been found guilty of magic?”

“Yes,” Arthur replied curtly.

“But a trail, surely there will be a trail….” Gaius began to plead.

“NO!” Arthur snarled.  “I discovered him myself.  There is no need for a trail.  He has already confessed.”

“But surely, Sire, you can’t, I mean, you couldn’t sentence him to….” Gaius couldn’t even begin to think the word execution, never mind say it. 

All of Arthur’s fury returned, and he leaned in closely to the physician and hissed, “the only reason you are not being questioned at this very moment, Gaius, is because you are needed here as the Court Physician.  If I thought you had anything to do with his magic, I guarantee that you’d live out the last of your days in the dungeons.”

“But Merlin,” Gaius pleaded.

“DO NOT SAY THAT NAME! I know you trusted him Gaius.  But magic is evil and it cannot remain in Camelot.  I have decided to be merciful.  The sorcerer has been banished, beginning immediately.  He is being escorted to the gates of Camelot as we speak.  He will never return or I will see him burn for his betrayal.”

“But Sire,” Gaius pleaded.

“No.  I will speak of this no more.  Return to your quarters Gaius, and never mention his name again.  That is an order.  He is never to be spoken of again.” Arthur declared.  “Do not test me on this.”

______________________________

Arthur walked away, down the corridor until he reached his quarters.  Only when he passed his guards and closed the door behind him, did he allow his body to sag against the door frame.  He flinched as Gwen voice called from their bed. 

“Is it true?” She asked softly.  “Is Merlin…?”

“No! Don’t say that name.  I never want to hear that name again.  Never.” Arthur barked. 

“But, is he, are you going to … what are you going to do Arthur?  This is … I mean … he always … he’s been by your side, fighting to save you, save Camelot.  How can he be …? There must be some kind of reason … Arthur he has stood by you, he has been one of your most loyal friends.  He fought beside you – he sat at the round table… “ 

“So did Lancelot.” Arthur snapped.  Gwen shrunk back as though he had hit her.  Arthur regretted his words, but he had to make Gwen understand.

“He’s a sorcerer.  That’s what he is Gwen, a sorcerer,” Arthur explained tersely.  “The one person I trusted completely is actually the greatest traitor in the kingdom.  How could I ever trust … No, I love you, and we forgave each other, but this ….  No — I can’t forgive this.  I wish … but it’s impossible now.  I couldn’t have him killed.  I know my father would have.  I know I should for the safety of Camelot, but I just couldn’t do it.  He’s been banished,” Arthur said turning toward Gwen.   “He is being escorted to the gates, and he is leaving Camelot forever.  I never want to think of him again, Gwen.  Don’t ever mention his name again.  He is dead to me, and to all of Camelot.  I am the King here, and I have decided.”  He said desperately, praying for Gwen to support him.

Gwen quietly rose from their bed and laid her hand upon Arthur’s arm.  “I’m so sorry Arthur,” she whispered.  “I don’t understand, but I will do as you ask.  Let me help you, please,” she entreated.

_______________

Word of Merlin’s banishment quickly spread throughout the castle, and then the realm.  The knights gathered, and argued, but they obeyed their King’s command and never mentioned Merlin’s name where anyone could overhear them.  Gwaine, perhaps the most vocal of Merlin’s supporters, was almost placed in the stocks, but Sir Leon, now Head Knight, interfered, and over a tankard of ale, managed to calm Gwaine, and explained that Arthur was forced to act for the good of the kingdom.  Leon showed Gwaine that Arthur had in fact shown mercy, since the law stated that Merlin could have been flogged and executed immediately.  Arthur had been lenient, even if Gwaine couldn’t see it.  If Gwaine wanted to remain a Knight in Camelot, then he must accept his King’s decision.  It was a very long evening, but in the end, Leon’s reputation, and long history of good judgment made Gwaine see reason. Sir Leon also made sure that Gwaine was assigned to the next few scouting missions outside of Camelot, and out of the King’s hearing.

At first Merlin’s magic was the talk of the lower town, but soon, everyone in Camelot stopped talking about Merlin at all, as though his kind, gentle presence amongst them had never happened.  The old physician Gaius quietly packed Merlin’s belongings and placed them in a small box in the corner of his room.  Only he knew that Merlin would not only be missed, but his absence could spell disaster for the future of the entire kingdom.  He didn’t mention Merlin, ever, but he still thought of him often, and prayed to all the gods he was safe.


	4. What Vengence Compels

_(5 Months earlier)_

Morgana lay on the forest floor trying to understand all the power rushing through her veins.  The baby dragon was still sitting there, a few feet away, but he didn’t seem intent on harming her.  In fact, it seemed as though he had healed her. 

Morgana thought back to her defeat in Camelot, and suddenly she understood that Merlin had magic.  He must have been the one who caused the ceiling to collapse on her.  He must somehow be tied to Emyrs.  Then, the tiny dragon’s breath still coursing through her veins, Morgana stilled as it sent images into her mind.  First it showed her Merlin’s face and then showed her his true name:  _Emyrs, Dragonlord, Merlin_.  Morgana’s face twisted into a cruel smile as she began plotting her revenge, until she remembered, at that very moment, Camelot was celebrating her defeat as she sat there on the cold forest floor, alone.  Her howl of rage echoed through the forest.

________________

Meanwhile, the druid boy Mordred had not fared so well amongst his adopted clan.  The anger and bitterness he carried inside him could no longer be controlled, so the Druids chose to cast him out from their circle.  They considered themselves a peaceful people, and they wanted nothing to do with this child’s hatred or thirst for revenge.  Mordred wandered the wilderness alone and friendless until the day he heard Morgana’s scream of rage just inside the edge of his mind.  He recognized her furious scream, so he followed its thread over several weeks until he found Morgana sitting among a small group of renegade thieves, bandits, and killers in a small glade in the forest.   As he stepped into the clearing, all of the men leap to their feet, weapons drawn.  Morgana also leapt to her feet, and thrust her hands forward with a hiss, preparing to strike. 

 ** _Peace, sister_** he whispered in her mind.  **_We share the same desires._** Morgana didn’t attack, but she didn’t relax either.  The men surround him, but they did not strike, awaiting the command of their witch. 

“Mordred,” she gasped in surprise. 

 ** _Yes,_** he replied, still speaking silently.

“You have grown.  I hardly recognize the child I once rescued from the pyre.”

 ** _I have grown since last we met,_** Mordred agreed.

Morgana could see that his power had indeed grown in the two years since they had last seen each other, but he still looked like an ordinary eleven year-old boy to anyone who could not feel the magic pulsing through his veins.

**_We should discuss many things.  Perhaps you could order your men to withdraw?_ **

“Not until your intentions are clear,” she replied haughtily.

 ** _I wish to make Camelot pay for their crimes against our kind.  I would see the King on his knees_** , he declared, sounding much older than the boy who stood in front of her.

“Perhaps there is much for us to discuss after all,” Morgana agreed.  And with a wave of her hand, the men sheathed their weapons and returned to their seats around the fire.

____________________

Over the next week, they learned to trust each other (somewhat) and began practicing combining their powers to take control of all nine of the men’s minds in their band, turning them into mindless pawns.  The men quickly learned to obey Morgana’s slightest whim, and they came to dread Mordred’s silent evil whispers of madness and death to any who dared disobeyed either of them.  Soon, each man was little more than a living puppet.

Late at night, Mordred and Morgana often sat silently around the campfire discussing how to take their revenge upon Merlin, Arthur, and Camelot.  The more time they spent in each other’s company, the more their powers learned to work together.  Each day that passed, the light in the clearing grew dimmer until a cold mist continuously enveloped the small band of outlaws.  Together, they learned to control the mist, and use it to shield their magical presence and attack hapless travelers along the road for food and weapons. 

Late one night, after the men had fallen asleep, Morgana and Mordred remained at the fire arguing.

“You're not listening; we cannot control everyone in Camelot.  The people,” Morgana snorted “love their King and his serving-wench Queen.  They will never accept my rule, so we must destroy the city entirely if we are to win.  But without an army we have no chance.  We may be able to control these few feeble minds, but we cannot control all the people in Camelot.”

 ** _Why?_** asked Mordred.  **_Why defeat the entire city if you only need to overcome its King?_**

“Killing Arthur is no easy task.  I have defeated him before, but the people, the knights refused to bow to my will.  Camelot is mine.  I WILL BE QUEEN! It is my birthright.  I will not stand to see that, that, _wench_ sit upon my throne. But merely defeating Arthur will not give me control of the kingdom.  We need more.”

**_But what you want is power, and revenge, of course.  You don't need the crown to achieve that._ **

“What! I told you, the crown is mine.  I am Uther’s true daughter.  The crown belongs to me! Besides, you know Merlin defends Arthur and his wench.  His magic is too powerful, and even if our combined magic could somehow bind him, he is just too powerful to kill,” she said wrathfully.  “He has denied me at every turn.  Even if we could lure him out of Camelot, we could not defeat him.  No.  Once again, Merlin stands in our way, and we cannot move on Camelot until he is eliminated.”

 ** _Very well,_** Mordred sighed.  **_Although I dream of making Merlin suffer one day for his crimes against our brethren, I, too, am willing to compromise.  We will put Emrys aside for now and concentrate on taking Camelot instead.  Once we have amassed enough power – then we will take our revenge on Emrys._**

“Put Merlin aside?  That is not easy to do.  And, as I have reminded you repeatedly, we have no army,” Morgana repeated exasperatedly, “and we are not powerful enough to control the minds of every person in the city.” 

 ** _Then we will wait for the right time, when Emrys is vulnerable, and then we will use cunning to control the city,_** Mordred replied patiently.

“How?” Morgana asked frustratedly.

**_The only way to bring about the Camelot’s destruction is to destroy the King.  Tell me, what does he hold most dearly? What is it that gives him the power to control the realm?_ **

“I told you,” Morgana hissed “the people love him.”

 ** _Then that is what we must attack,_** Mordred countered.  **_You must accept that the crown cannot be achieved by force.  We must find a way to change how the people of Camelot feel about their King, and break him in front of his loyal Knights.  We must destroy his reputation and bring him low before his people.  We must humiliate him beyond redemption, so he can never recover.  Then, you could enter the citadel as their Savior, restoring Camelot to her former glory.  It is the only way you'll gain the throne.  Only then will they accept you as their Savior Queen and the true Pendragon heir._**

“Humiliate Arthur? Oh yes, I would love that.  My revenge would only feel complete if I could force Arthur to kneel at my feet.” Morgana’s eyes glowed at the prospect.

Their conversation continued long into the night, often running in circles, examining plan after plan before discarding it as useless.  But bit by bit, they formed a cunning plan to take the city by stealth rather than force once the time was right. 

_______________

A few weeks later Morgana disguised herself as an old woman once again, and entered a small township on the far edge of Camelot.  She wandered through the marketplace, listening to all the vendors and the people who moved around her, but who instinctively avoided her.  She stopped beside a vendor’s stall, fingering the rich velvety cloth that reminded her of all she had lost.  The merchant began toward her to stop her from fingering his wares, but quickly retreated when Morgana looked up and gave him a look so malevolent, he backed away in fear.  Morgana knew she had to be more careful or word of her presence would reach the wrong ears, so she dropped the cloth and moved away.  The merchant sighed in relief.  As she turned a corner, she overheard two women gossiping.  Morgana stopped quickly and hid herself in a nearby doorway when she heard one of them mention the Merlin.

 

“Yes” one of them whispered.  “He was the Kings personal manservant I heard.  He was a sorcerer, hidden right in the heart of Camelot.   He had been hiding there for years.”

“In Camelot? For years?” gasped the other one, clearly relishing the new gossip. 

“Plotting some evil or other,” confided the first. 

“What happened? How was he found out? How was he killed?” asked the other.

“I heard he escaped,” whispered the first, “right from under the Kings nose.”

The second woman gasped. 

Morgana’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she ran from the marketplace toward the forest.  She could hardly believe their luck.  Arthur had removed the one thing that stood in their way.  That arrogant prat had banned the one person Morgana feared.  Now all their dreams and planning could finally come true. She would be Queen of Camelot.

________________

Morgana raced back to the glade where Mordred and their men waited.  She quickly told Mordred all she had overheard.  “We must act,” she cried.  “We must act now.  Merlin’s magic was discovered and he has left the city. He cannot return.  Camelot is defenseless against us.  We must gather ourselves and move, NOW.”

Mordred agreed that this opportunity was too good to ignore, so they forced the men to quickly pack their camp.  Within moments, they traveled down the road towards Camelot, their plans ready to be put in motion.


	5. What the State Commands

Morgana, Mordred, along with all nine of her dark companions, marched through the forest and entered Camelot under cover of darkness.  The cold mist heralded their return as they slunk through the quiet sleeping lanes of Camelot.  Any guards they passed were quickly placed under an enchantment, and no sound penetrated the muffling power of their mist.  They moved forward quickly and quietly towards the castle gates, as Morgana cast magical curses at anyone in their path.  Before anyone knew what was happening, Morgana and Mordred had arrived at the door of her old quarters.  With whispered spell, she unlocked the door, and ordered her men inside.  “Stay here, and remain silent” she commanded them.  Then she and Mordred silently moved on toward the Kings bedchamber.  The mist followed them, muffling any sound or sight of their presence in the castle.  Luckily for them, many in the castle were still sleeping, and the few guards they met in the passageways were quickly distracted with a simple spell.

Morgana and Mordred quickly muddled the minds of the guards outside of the King’s chambers.  They couldn’t see nor hear either her or the boy although they stood right in front of them.  Their minds remained blissfully blank as they stood at attention outside the King’s chambers.   Morgana prepared herself for the moment she had been dreaming of since that day on the forest floor so long ago.  Mordred, for his part, felt a rush of anticipation run through his body as his power crackled across his skin with excitement.  Together, they unlocked and flung the door wide, making it crash against the wall with a dramatic blast.  As the door crashed open, Arthur awoke instantly, and instinctively reached for the short sword he kept next to his bed.  He leapt to his feet prepared to meet whatever threatened them. 

 ** _“Fleoge”_** Morgana commanded, and the sword went flying across the room clattering uselessly against the stone floor.  Arthur stared at Morgana and Mordred, trying to process how they could have gotten here.  As he tried to launch himself at the two intruders, Morgana cast another spell that sent him crashing to the floor.  He struggled against her magical bond as Gwen fell out of the far side of the bed, cowering in the corner. 

“Guards!” he bellowed, but no one answered.  He stared impotently up at Morgana and Mordred as they proceeded into the room, and closed the door silently behind them. 

 _“ **Lige foregeng mec”**_ she commanded, and Arthur, to his horror, crawled forward and knelt before Morgana, his muscles straining against the invisible bond that held him to his knees. 

“I defeated you without a fight, little brother.  I defeated you and all your armies without a struggle.  It was as easy as drowning a kitten,” she crowed gleefully.  “You are powerless before me, and now you shall do as ** __**_I_ command.  I rule in Camelot now, and there is nothing you can do.” 

“Never!” Arthur roared, but the sound did not travel beyond the closed doors as the mist Morgana and Mordred controlled covered the door completely.  The guards still couldn’t hear the alarm, and no one came to his defense.  Gwen, the bed sheets tangled around her frail frame, trembled in fear.  The woman the Queen once called friend was now too terrible to look upon. 

“You fool” Morgana hissed at Arthur, her face mottled with hatred and glee.  “Your fear of magic made you banish the only person who could save you.  Now you will suffer, as our father did before he died; helpless and hopeless.”

__________________________

Morgana and Mordred spent the early the morning learning to control both Arthur and Gwen’s every move, until their bodies were utterly under their command.  They found Gwen’s mind was easier to control, but Arthur fought them with every ounce of his being.  While they could control his body, his mind continued to fight against them.  Together, they concentrated their combined efforts on controlling Arthur’s tiniest movement, until they could command his body like a puppet, while his mind seethed within.  Their control was not perfect, but by the time Elbius, Arthur’s new manservant, along with Alma, knocked on the door, they felt ready for their performance to begin.  Morgana and Mordred swiftly moved behind the dressing screen, while commanding Gwen and Arthur to sit at the table in front of the cold fireplace. 

“Enter,” Gwen parroted the command placed in her mind.

“Good morning sire, my lady” Elbius said as he nodded towards them.  “I see you are out of bed.  Shall I lay out your clothes for the day, sire?” he asked while Alma served the royal couple their breakfast.  Neither seemed to notice anything was amiss, even though Arthur tried to use his eyes and face to reveal the two sorcerers behind the screen.

“No, that will be all,” Gwen intoned listlessly, automatically echoing the thought Mordred forced into her mind.

“Very well,” Elbius answered deferentially with a bow of his head, and bustled out the door with Alma in tow.

“Yes” Morgana crowed as the door swung shut behind them.  “I believe that went very well.  We really must work on your attitude Arthur.  Perhaps, yes … you my dear,” Morgana thought carefully, and with her eyes on Arthur, she motioned toward Gwen.  “You will serve me my breakfast on your knees.”

Arthur felt a helpless rage well up inside of him, but he could do nothing to protect his wife or himself as Mordred and Morgana took their places at their table and began to eat their food.  Morgana’s threat toward Gwen was so alarming; it forced Arthur to stop overtly fighting their commands lest his new bride be forced to do something truly terrible.  Arthur had already heard Mordred’s sick whispered threats in his mind, and he knew just how much they despised him and Gwen.  They didn’t want his death.  No; they would happily torture him and his wife for a very long time if Arthur refused their commands.

Satisfied with Arthur’s acquiescence, Morgana and Mordred finished eating the sumptuous breakfast laid out on the table.  Then, Morgana tore through Arthur’s wardrobe, and finding a suitable disguise, forced Gwen to help her dress.  Using the same spell she had used to disguise herself in the market place, she looked in a mirror, and as Arthur looked on in disgust, she began to morph her features into Lord Magtain, a minor noble who had once stayed at the Castle when they were children. 

“Now the real fun begins,” she announced with glee. 

__________________________

As the days passed, Morgana, disguised as Lord Magtain, never left his side.  Silently, with Mordred’s gleeful assistance, they gained more and more control over Arthur’s every waking moment.

Although Camelot’s faithful knights and counselors did not trust this new lord, they could not separate Arthur from his ‘advisor’ no matter how hard they tried.  Slowly, the few men who remained loyal to Arthur were sent away, one by one, on pointless missions.  Many however, simply became accustomed to being ignored.  Arthur was forced to abandon anyone who would come to his aid, until he found himself alone and helpless under Morgana’s rule.  Anytime Gaius appeared before him, Morgana’s hatred for the old man made it necessary to dismiss him as soon as possible, lest she come up with some other horrible solution to his meddling.  Morgana arranged it so that Sir Leon was demoted from his rank for some imagined insult to the crown.  Although he knew the accusation was baseless, Leon faithfully remained in service to his King, believing his loyalty would soon prove him innocent.  Meanwhile, he would stay silent so he could remain and do whatever he felt necessary to protect Camelot.

__________________________

Sir Bostaine wasn't very strong or very bright.  His rank never rose very high amongst the Knights, even though he had served in Camelot since Uther’s reign.  He was the third son of the Duke of Bruxton, and Uther had felt obliged to knight him in honor of his father's loyalty.  Arthur despised him, but could do very little when he was prince since Bostaine’s father was a valuable ally to the kingdom.  He had been assigned to stand in the courtyard and ensure that all newly arriving lords and ladies were greeted properly.  Arthur had kept him there, as the position held no real power, but it was ceremonial enough to please Bostaine. Arthur knew Sir Bostaine was a lazy bully of the highest order.  He proved it often whenever he got the opportunity to interact with anyone he considered _lesser_.  All the knights, servants and citizens of Camelot despised him.  He liked his ale, and his creature comforts, and now that spring had begun to give way to summer, he enjoyed late evenings in the taverns, lording his rank over anyone who ventured near.

At Morgana's command, Arthur appointed him Head Knight, much to the horror of the loyal Knights of Camelot.  As faithful knights, they were forced to obey Arthur’s edict, and Sir Leon counseled patience to anyone who would protest.  After all, the Knights were Arthur’s to command as he saw fit.  Now, the once disciplined ‘training’ sessions had become little less than daily mêlées.  Meanwhile, bandits had begun to run unchecked throughout the realm.  Sir Bostaine, however, refused to dispatch any armed patrols to the vulnerable villages stating ‘they must remain in Camelot to _protect_ the King.’  The men who had aided Morgana’s bloodless coup were given false papers of nobility, knighted by the King, under Morgana’s command, and quickly began to abuse their new authority as Knights of Camelot.

Gaius was kept busy tending all of the wounded knights after training sessions had finished for the day.  Whenever he attempted to reason with King Arthur, he was threatened with dismissal or worse.  Eventually, Gaius chose to remain silent so that he could help whomever he could, but the more time passed, the more silent and withdrawn he became.  It seemed as though Merlin's banishment had crushed whatever vitality the old man ever had.

Other changes gradually took hold in Camelot as well.  One of the ‘new’ Knights assaulted the daughter of a cobbler one evening.  When her father, John, requested to meet with the King, he was turned away.  But, as he has been working in Camelot for most of his life, and was well respected amongst all of the residents of Camelot, he persisted, and was finally granted an audience.  When he finished describing his daughters attack to the Court, Morgana (still in disguise as an advisor) forced Arthur to punish the man for besmirching the reputation of a noble.  The cobbler was flogged in the public square.  When many of the people of Camelot protested on his behalf, John was dragged before the Court and accused of causing dissension.  Morgana ordered all of his possessions confiscated and his entire family banished from the realm.  The other residents of Camelot quickly realized that they must keep silent if they wanted to keep their homes and their families safe.

The following day, Gwaine attacked the accused knight during a particularly vicious training session, leaving the other knight badly beaten.  Sir Bostaine decided that Gwaine needed to be put in his place, so he ordered him to spend a day in the stocks.  Late that evening, as Gaius tended to the injuries Gwaine sustained during the fight, Sir Leon entered the physician’s quarters.  He cautiously spoke his concerns, the changes he could see in Arthur, and throughout Camelot.  Together, the three men concluded that some kind of enchantment must have taken control of Arthur.  Gaius told the two men about some of the times merlin had protected Arthur and Camelot from enchantments, and they all concluded they needed Merlin's help to break whatever spell has been placed upon Arthur.  Now, they just had to leave Camelot and find him.

Leon came up with an idea, and he asked the other two for their input in organizing his plan.  He had noticed the arrival of a nobleman earlier that day from the Court of Belmount.  The Lord had come to report multiple attacks in the area around the large marsh area that lay eastward of Belmount.  Leon had overheard him telling another noble about the road that stretched along the marsh toward Camelot had become too dangerous for travelers.  With the help of Gaius’s books, the three men invented a plausible story involving the presence of a _Llamhigyn_ (a poisonous frog-like creature with wings, who exhaled poisonous gas.)

Sir Leon arranged to casually speak with the noble over dinner, and implanted the idea of a _Llamhigyn_ in the Lords mind.  Leon was so successful, that by the time the Lord presented his report before the Court, he actually repeated some of the tales Sir Leon fed him as actual events.  Arthur sent for Gaius, who just happened to have the exact tome he needed to support his story.  Gwaine immediately volunteered himself for this dangerous mission. 

Morgana was delighted with this turn of events, as Gwaine had become a troublesome influence in Camelot.  She commanded Arthur to order Gwaine to ‘bring back the beast’s head’ even though Morgana knows it was an impossible task, since a _Llamhigyn_ could only be lured from the water and defeated by someone pure of heart, wielding a pure golden sword.  Since Gwaine possessed neither of these, Morgana felt assured of his death.

The very next morning Gwaine rode north out of Camelot to find Merlin.


	6. What the Soul Desires

It took two months of searching, but Gwaine doggedly followed every lead and chased every rumor.  He first heard word of a sorcerer who had magically cured a child with a severe case of the pox who had been left to die in the forest outside a village.  While the child and her parents were grateful she had been saved, the other villagers were wary of the child now, and the family had already made plans to move to her mother’s original village some ways away.  Further north, Gwaine discovered a group of travelers who spoke of a wizard who drove off a band of thieves without lifting a sword.  They too were nervous, and resisted Gwaine’s attempts to gather any description of the man or trace his route.  Finally, Gwaine came to a small hamlet just outside the larger township of Leominster, where the crops had been magically cured of blight.  Gwaine was able to gather much more information, as he spoke with a few of the Knights stationed there.  They told him that the local Baron had ordered the sorcerer’s arrest for using magic, but the sorcerer had magically disappeared from their prison during the night.  It seemed to Gwaine that everywhere Merlin turned, his magic, no matter how much he used it to help people, was met with fear and hatred.  He could not imagine Merlin’s despair as each place he traveled through repaid his kindness with alarm and suspicion.

Gwaine’s quest to save the man who had showed him what true nobility meant, kept spurring him forward, northward past the forest of Engred, through the realm of Mercia, where rumors had finally reached him that a sorcerer had returned to the Perilous Lands.  He pushed his steed to the edge of the forest of Anber till he looked upon the barren lands that lay at the edge of the Fisher King’s realm.  It was still a desolate place where the land had only just begun to recover from the blight that had covered it for hundreds of years.  He tied his horse to a barren tree, and proceeded through the burning hot lands on foot under the strong summer sun.  Within hours he stood at the edge of the bridge he remembered from Arthur’s quest.  From the shadows, the outline of the dwarf materialized at the edge of the bridge.

“Ah, I see Strength has arrived,” Grettir stated. 

Gwaine stared at him for a moment, and then, remembering the power of this small man who had transformed his sword to a flower, respectfully asked,

“Merlin – has Merlin crossed here?”

“Yes” the dwarf replied.  “A sorcerer has returned to the throne in the dark tower, and you can see for yourself the damage he inflicts upon the land.  But remember, Strength alone cannot save him.  It will take Courage, Strength, and Magic to end his torment.”

“I must pass” Gwaine beseeched.  “I must save him.”

“Save him?” Grettir replied ironically.  “Perhaps you might stir him, but you do not have the courage to save him.”  Gwaine ignored his words, and only thought about reaching Merlin.  Then he would deal with whatever else this bridge keeper referred to.  Right now, he could only think about finding his friend as quickly as possible. 

“Please, let me pass.  I must reach him soon, or I’m afraid it will be too late for anyone to save him.  I have to try.”  Gwaine was unaccustomed to begging, but he would do whatever it took to reach Merlin.

“You may pass Strength.  But even if you do, remember, it will take courage and magic to truly save him.”

Gwaine sprang forward, and ran through the desolate lands.  He simply ran on ignoring all the dangers pressing in on him from all sides.  With speed and strength he arrived at the gates to the dark tower, and climbed the broken stairs towards the throne room.

There he found Merlin, curled up into the smallest ball his bony frame could make, upon the Fisher King’s broken throne.  Merlin lay shivering against the cold as he stared blankly at the skeletons stacked in the corner of the room.  He didn’t hear Gwaine as he entered, nor did he feel Gwaine as he gently tried to rouse him from his stupor.  Gwaine recognized that Merlin needed food and drink desperately.  His already thin frame had become emaciated, and Gwaine realized he had found him just in time. 

First Gwaine took his warm woolen riding cloak, stained and torn from travel, and tucked it around Merlin’s body.  Then he pulled his water skin from his side and gently pried Merlin’s mouth open.  He softly squeezed the water into Merlin’s mouth, and watched as a small trickle of water ran down his chin, but then Merlin swallowed reflexively and at least some of the water made it into his body.  Gwaine waited a few moments and repeated the action again and again, until Merlin seemed to wake up to the fact he was no longer alone.  Gwaine began to whisper reassurances as though he were speaking to a small lost child.

"It’s Gwaine, remember?  See, I’ve brought you some water to drink.”




_____________________________

Hours later, Gwaine still talked, in hopes of reaching his friend.

“Camelot needs you Merlin.  You are the only one who can save her.  Arthur has been put under some kind of enchantment.  He’s – he’s become hard Merlin; hard and cruel.  He is no longer the Arthur I met.  That’s not the Arthur I chose to follow.  Gaius and Leon sent me to look for you.  You are the only one who can help us.”

Gwaine noticed that Merlin gave a start at Gaius’ name, so he continued talking about the old man, in hopes of rousing Merlin from this stupor.  “He's a tough old bird I'll give him that.  But it hasn't been easy since you left.  He barely leaves his quarters anymore.  He still makes time to patch up us Knights, but he can't travel through the lower city anymore.  It's just become too dangerous, and he doesn't have an apprentice anymore with young legs to run his errands and collect herbs.  Anytime time he's even approached Arthur, he's only come away worse off.  I'm not sure how much longer he can take this.  He needs you too Merlin.  Just like we all do.  You don't know how bad it's gotten there.  Come on now sit up proper, and drink some of this water and I’ll tell you more.”

Now that he had Merlin's attention, he meant to keep talking until his young friend could truly understand the danger Camelot was in.  Reminding him of friends and places, and the danger that they faced, seemed to be working best.  So Gwaine started telling Merlin stories about Leon, Gaius, and Gwen.  Each new tale brought Merlin further from the edge as he slowly began to be able to focus on what Gwaine was telling him.  He was drinking now without help, and he mindlessly took a slice of dried meat Gwaine stuck in his hand and began chewing it.  Each passing hour, as Gwaine's voice grew hoarse, Merlin came back to himself bit by bit.  “These new knights, if they’re noble then I’ll dress up Bob’s old sow and marry her.  Mind you, they’re arrogant and cruel enough.  But whenever I look at them, all I can imagine is that someone’s let loose all the prisoners in the dungeon and dressed them up as guards.  It’s not right Merlin.  Something has gone very wrong.”

Finally, Gwaine return to the subject of Arthur.  He told Merlin the story about how he, Leon, and Gaius had come up with the mysterious Llamhigyn, which gave Gwaine the freedom to search for Merlin.  He talked about the deadness he saw behind Arthur's eyes.  How everyone in Camelot seemed dead inside.  There were no celebrations, no happiness.  Everything had become dingy and grey in Merlin’s absence.  He even told him about the cobbler, and Arthur's order to flog him. 

“Arthur would never do that,” Merlin croaked, speaking up for the first time.  “He would never do something as cruel as that.”

“I know.” Gwaine said roughly, though secretly he was pleased Merlin was responding at last.  “But he did.  Now we just need to figure out why.  Or should I say who, because I don't think the Arthur I knew would do that either.  Something's gone very wrong Merlin.  And the few knights who can still think for themselves – well, we don't know what to do.  There's no monster to slay, and if it's enchantment like Gaius believes, well, you're the best man for the job.” Gwaine stated as he laid his hand on Merlin shoulder.

“I know you owe Camelot nothing.  Arthur's hurt you and thrown you away.  But he needs you now, now more than ever.  We all need you, just like we always have.  Will you come? Will you come see for yourself?”

“I don’t know if I can Gwaine.  It all seems so dark here … No matter what I do.…“  Merlin trailed off into silence.  Then he roused himself, and began speaking to himself.  “If it’s my destiny, if they’re right, if I’m the only one who can protect Camelot, then I don’t have any right to refuse ….  But he hates me.  He despises everything I am.  If I could have done things differently ...  but it’s too late now.  I can’t change any of that, but, maybe I’m supposed to try.  Even if … well, even if I fail, I’ll know I’ve done everything I could.  Maybe Arthur was destined to spare me from the executioner’s block.  Maybe I’m meant to serve Camelot one last time.  Yes, maybe that’s right.  It feels right somehow.” Merlin softly muttered to himself.

Merlin turned toward Gwaine who had silently sat watching Merlin argue with himself.  Merlin looked at him with a new determination in his eyes.

“I’ll need a ride….”

Gwaine smiled.


	7. What the Body Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains explicit descriptions of humiliation, torture and rape as well as water sports and underage sexual acts. If this is not your cup of tea -- DON'T READ IT !!! Just assume the worst has happened to Arthur and move on to the next chapter. You will still be able to follow the story's plot. -- You have been warned.

Arthur’s days had become an unending series of shame, as Morgana twisted his rule into something cruel and perverse.  Every now and again, when he was allowed some small private thoughts, his mind turned to Merlin.  Morgana’s words rang in his head, as he thought about the man he had banished.  The words he had shouted at Merlin, the things he accused him of, had come true in some sort of prophetic nightmare.  Now, he knew exactly what a puppet king was.  He knew now, just what it meant to be under someone’s control, and he also knew that Merlin deserved none of the things he had screamed at him in the dungeon. 

Arthur realized he had refused to listen, just as Merlin had once told him.  He had ignored everyone who would defend Merlin: Gaius, Gwaine, even Guinevere, who had in her own quiet way tried to make him see reason.  But he would not hear about Merlin’s loyalty, or how many times he had saved Arthur and the kingdom.  His pride and fury had blinded him, just like his father.  No, he was worse than his father.  His blind hatred of magic did not compare to Arthur stripping away the only defense Camelot had against this current horror.  He alone had left the entire kingdom vulnerable to this mad woman and the demon child who crept around the castle spreading fear and dissention where ever his shadow lurked.

Shortly after Morgana gained control of his will, she began with small humiliations, often in front of the entire court.  Once, she forced Arthur to piss in his pants while he sat on the throne.  The entire court fell silent, but Morgana forced Arthur to continue the day as though he didn’t smell foul.  Another time, while a visiting noble from another kingdom was in attendance, Morgana made sure he insulted the man in every manner possible, and then made him proposition the Lord’s wife, who promptly fainted.  Word of Camelot’s descent had traveled far and wide.  Bandits now roamed Camelot’s lands freely, and the citizens from outlying villages who had dared the journey to beg for help were either sent away empty handed, or forced to pay heavy taxes if they wished any protection at all.  Arthur could barely stomach the looks on all of the people around him.  He knew things could only get worse, but every attempt he made to break the hold Morgana had on him and the court resulted in far worse punishments, not just for himself, but for Gwen as well. 

Meanwhile, Morgana soon grew tired of these small humiliations, and moved onto more painful means of dominating him.  Yes, the days were bad, but the nights had become a horror.  Once the day’s audience had ended, and the courtiers sent away, Arthur’s true nightmare began.  The men Morgana had forced him to knight had become a true menace throughout the court.  During the day, they freely terrorized and stole from the people, but at night, at night, they had become an instrument of Morgana’s torture.  It almost killed Arthur that he could not protect his wife from their horror.  He watched as each day she grew more gaunt and withdrawn.  If he could have ripped the flesh from his own bones to save her, he would have.  But he could only sit quietly by as they took whatever they fancied.  That is until Morgana gave them a new toy to play with.  Then Arthur would have not only torn away his flesh, but destroyed himself down to the very bone if he could only have found a way.  Arthur’s destruction became complete after Morgana decided that he would pay the price for every real or imagined slight she ever felt while she lived at Camelot.  And Morgana had a very vivid imagination when it came to humiliation and revenge.

It began one night, after the official court had closed, when only he and Morgana remained in the Great Hall.  Morgana let her magical disguise drop when they were alone so that Arthur could look on her true form, and know his complete failure.  Arthur sat on the throne, exhausted from his unceasing struggling to break her control, when Morgana announced that he needed to be taught his place.  She led him over to the council table, made him strip, and then lay upon his back across the table, his knees open wide.  Arthur looked into her cold eyes, and the fear began to gnaw at him before she even uttered a word.  Morgana’s smile was cruel and ruthless as she raised her arms and began to chant.

First, Arthur felt raw magic scrape across his pubic hair shaving down to bare, raw skin.  Then he watched a silver string materialize above his belly, then circle around his ball sack and then draw up between his two testicles until they were lifted up against the base of his cock tight and painfully on display for all to see.  The cord wound tightly around the base of his cock, making it rise and fill, until it stood horribly erect across his newly shorn groin.  He had no control as he felt the blood pulse through his shaft making it achingly hard.  Morgana ran her nails lightly across the crown of his shaft and he gasped.  Then she grabbed his balls and squeezed and he cried out in pain.  He could feel the metallic string circle the top of his shaft once just under the crown before sliding up through the V at the tip of his cock and then pierce downward through his piss hole until it finally lay along the inside his shaft.  He began to feel its magical throb and cried out against its invasion, but Morgana just laughed.

Morgana leaned over his prone body and crooned into his ear “I can see just how much your body wants this,” as she grabbed ahold of one of his nipples and twisted it in delight.  Arthur felt the tears of shame fall from his closed eyes despite his desperate attempts to keep control.  But he had no control here.  Not over his body or his soul.  Morgana cackled in delight.

“Don’t worry dear brother.  You will learn to enjoy this, and YOU WILL obey my every command.  Even your cum will rise to my command.  I control every one of your muscles and nerves and I will make sure you will bring pleasure to whomever I command” she hissed, her cold breath piercing his ear even as it pierced his mind.  “Your body is mine to command _King of Shame_.  You will pleasure every cock placed before you, however I wish you to.  Your arse, your mouth, your hands, even your eyes will shine with devotion to anyone I deem worthy to partake in your humiliation.”

The wire inside of him hummed in agreement.  Arthur felt the pressure in his balls rise as they lifted even higher in response to her words.  “ _ **Tóspringe**_ ” she stated and he could feel the pulse of pleasure throb just once as his seed exploded from the tip of his cock covering his belly with cum.  But, he felt no relief, as the magical pulsing continued even after his ejaculation.  The pressure inside his balls resumed all too fast, so that within moments of his release his balls tightened with agonizing pressure once again.

“Oh yes, little brother” she cackled.  “I will control even that.  You will only be allowed to cum when I command it.  You will remain shaved clean like the spoiled little brat you always have been.  Besides it makes it so much easier to clean you as well.  _**Formien doost ronane**_ ** _,”_** and he felt the magic scour across his newly shaved skin and all traces of his seed disappear.  “But now I have some very eager Knights who wish to be rewarded for their faithful service.  Oh yes, I will enjoy watching you prostrate yourself before your betters” she tittered.  “Now stand” she commanded, and he rose to his feet like a puppet on a string.  He couldn’t stand completely upright as the cord around his manhood prevented him from fully straightening, but his body rose at her command and he stood slightly hunched over awaiting her next command. 

He watched as Morgana’s _knights_ entered the hall.  They surrounded him like a pack of wolves. 

“Drop” Morgana commanded, and Arthur fell to his knees on the hard stone floor.  “Now, who deserves the honor of _Droit du seigneur_.  After all, it is not every day a King pays more than lip service to his trusted vassals.  You.”  Morgana pointed to a particularly brutal looking man, who, by the smell of him, hadn’t bathed in weeks.  “You shall be honored with The Rights of First Night.  Come, your King awaits.

Arthur watched the man as he unlaced his breeches and moved towards his mouth.  Arthur clenched his jaw and pursed his lips. 

“Now Arthur, you mustn’t keep your loyal vassal waiting.  Shall I remind you just how much power I have over you?” she asked as Arthur felt the cord tighten around his sack.  As he cried out in pain, the brute took advantage of his open mouth and forced his cock against the back of Arthur’s throat.  He then proceeded to brutally rape Arthur’s throat and mouth, shoving himself in and out at a harsh pace until he stilled, his cock deeply embedded in Arthur’s throat, and came wave after wave straight into Arthur’s stomach.  Before Arthur could catch more and one quick breath, another took his place.  Arthur’s mind stopped registering anything soon after.

_________________

By the third night Morgana grew bored with the entertainment Arthur provided.  Before Morgana left him sprawled across the feasting table, she cast a healing spell over his abused hole that he had endured sitting on all day, leaving him pristine and virginal for the knights to despoil once again.  Then she left the room; but Mordred remained.  He was too young for his prick to harden, but he could feel the knight’s savage pleasure echo through his mind.  He desperately wanted to take part in Arthur’s humiliation, but it wasn’t until one knight, who had just finished viciously abusing Arthur’s arse move towards his mouth and demand Arthur clean his cock, that inspiration struck.  Mordred waited for the man to finish, and then moved towards Arthur’s head, grasped his golden locks and yanked his head down over the edge of the table.  Then Mordred leaned in, untied his breeches and placed his small shaft into Arthur’s mouth.  “ ** _Drink_** ” Arthur heard inside his head, and then a stream of piss flowed from Mordred’s cock into Arthur’s mouth.  Arthur drank it down as commanded.  The other knights roared with delight.  Now when Arthur wasn’t sucking cock, his mouth was filled with the filthy piss of the men who surrounded him.  Occasionally, Mordred’s voice filled Arthur’s head, and he could hear Mordred’s commanding to him beg.  Arthur immediately began to beg for more.  Tears poured from his eyes as his voice begged “harder, faster.  Fill me, more, more, more” until his voice began to crack.  The knights were more than happy to oblige.

Morgana returned the next morning to see Arthur spread across the feasting table, his ragged hole completely exposed to anyone to see.  Semen and blood dripped down his arse, dribbling from the raw open hole that was left gaping from all the repeated rapes.  His belly bulged with the piss and semen of the men who had taken him again and again as he begged them for more.  Arthur’s humiliation was complete.  He had never felt so violated and vulnerable in his entire life.  His eyes beseeched Morgana for mercy as tears fell from his eyes.

“Oh baby brother,” Morgana crooned.  “Whatever has happened to you?  Here, let me make it all better, _**Formien doost ronane**_.” She sweetly smiled.  “You see, I’ve had an idea.”  Arthur turned his head and saw Sir Bostaine and another minor noble from a neighboring realm waiting eagerly behind her.


	8. What the People Need

Merlin left Gwaine on the outskirts of Camelot, telling him to gather whatever loyal men he could find.  He agreed to return and meet Gwaine there two candle marks before dawn the following day to strategize. Then, he entered the citadel as the morning broke, with Gwaine’s worn brown cloak wrapped tightly around him.  Merlin only saw a few desperate souls darting in and out of the shadows darting frantic looks at him as they hurried to complete any task that had brought them outside during this day.  None of the sunlight seemed to penetrate the cold fog that surrounded every lane and passageway.  The people hurried through the streets as though they feared for their lives every moment they were exposed to unseen eyes and ears.  Merlin’s anger grew as he watched a young boy trip on a cobblestone in his haste.  The sheer terror in his eyes when Merlin reached out to help the boy, quickly had Merlin retracting his hand and his presence lest he should cause the boy more fear and possibly harm.  As Merlin slowly made his way to the doors of the castle, fury settled to the base of his spine and he began to feel his power crackle through his hands.  Knowing the need for stealth and secrecy, Merlin stuffed his hands into his pockets, kept his head down, and tried to breathe as calmly as he could.  He knew he would only have one chance to confront whoever had caused this terrible fear, and to do that, he could not be discovered before he was ready.

Merlin spent the day hiding in the marketplace overhearing the whispered conversations around him. He could feel the people’s despair like a heavy weight. The cold mist that surrounded the castle and township left a metallic taste of blood on his tongue. Everywhere Merlin turned he felt the people’s anguish and fear. This was not the Camelot he remembered. For moment, he considered seeking out Gaius, but he realized his best defense was remaining hidden, and besides, he did not want to cause his old mentor anymore grief should he fail to end whatever this enchantment was.

Just before dawn Merlin crept into the castle itself, and silently moved towards the throne room to hide before anyone could arrive, so he could see Arthur for himself.  He couldn't bring himself to believe some of the things he had overheard in the lower town, and he needed to see for himself what had happened to the King while he was away.

The scene that greeted him as he opened the great open doors shook him to his very core. There was Arthur, trussed up in silver chains, surrounded by men in various states of undress, their red robes thrown on the ground or across several chairs. Morgana sat upon the throne, a cruel grin upon her face, and a crown on her head.  Merlin never even noticed Mordred standing in the shadows behind her.

__________________________

Merlin gaped at the sight of Arthur lying naked in chains, covered in blood and cum. His howl of rage rang throughout the Hall. Morgana and Mordred momentarily froze in fear. 

Then, Morgana lunged at Merlin, her passion for revenge overpowering her control, despite all of the plans she and Mordred had made.  Her only impulse was to kill him once and for all.  She summoned all her power, but before she could unleash it, Merlin’s eyes rose up from the floor and focused on her.  She froze as Merlin’s own fury overpowered her where she stood.  She couldn’t speak or move, and for one instant, she felt Merlin’s true raw power wash through her. 

Without a conscious thought, Merlin’s hand rose of its own volition; and Morgana stopped cold and dropped to the floor, dead.  There was no dramatic lightning bolt – no spell was cast.  Merlin’s rage alone stopped her heart in her chest.  Merlin took her life without a conscious thought.

Mordred huddled behind the throne in shock at the sight of Morgana’s prone body.  He too had felt the weight of Merlin’s magic on his skin, and he knew he was not powerful enough to stand against him alone.  Although his hatred of Merlin had grown ten-fold, he realized that retreat was the only way he would survive this encounter.  Then, he and his shadow disappeared without a sound, without Merlin ever noticing his presence. 

The rage Merlin had been building inside him throughout the day came bursting through every pore of his body; giving off a golden wave more powerful than could be imagined. All the knights in the room turned to ash before Merlin’s very eyes.  With their death, the rage Merlin felt died, and he suddenly wished that none of this had happened.  he wished that none of this was anything other than a bad dream.  Without realizing it, Merlin let off another golden pulse that throbbed with the power of a thousand suns, spilling throughout Camelot, reaching into even its darkest corners.  Every man, woman, and child froze where they were, and within the space of a heartbeat, the golden aura found them and filled them with peace; with forgetfulness.  Their pain was erased, their wounds healed, and their memories of the past month were expunged, leaving only a hazy dream of the suffering they endured under Morgana’s covert rule. 

Merlin used all of his magic to erase the memories of the entire kingdom - except for Arthur.  He could not reach into Arthur’s heart, nor his mind because Arthur had shut him out long before.  Merlin had not known he was capable of such power, and it shook him.  With the same speed that his magic left him, it returned with an explosive throb back into his body.  With it, came all of the pain and suffering he had erased from the hearts and minds of the people of Camelot. Performing this much magic carried its own unbearable cost, and Merlin sagged under its weight in his already weakened condition.

Merlin could not withstand all of the pain and sorrow he had just absorbed. Slowly, Merlin blinked his eyes and tried to regain control over his magic and his body. He staggered, and almost tripped on Arthur’s prone body.  As his vision began to clear, and his eyes stopped glowing, he could still see Arthur chained on the floor, cold shivering and alone. " _ **Tóspringe -- Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!**_ ** _”_** he cried before he collapsed to the floor.  The chains binding Arthur disintegrated as his body magically healed.

Gwaine, who had arrived in the city when Merlin failed to meet him, ran into the castle to find his friend.  He discovered him in the throne room moments after the golden glow had faded.  Gwaine had not been touched by its power, but he quickly understood that Merlin was its source and had followed it.  He saw Merlin fall to the ground unconscious, and he immediately threw himself onto the floor to rouse him.  Just as he heard a faint moan coming from Merlin, he spotted his King still lying curled up on the floor, naked and dazed.

"By the Gods" Gwaine cried out in anguish.  The sound forced Merlin to open his eyes.  He propped himself up with his arms and, with Gwaine’s help, rose shakily to his feet.

"Help him," Merlin told Gwaine.  Gwaine rushed over to Arthur lying naked, crying and shuddering on the cold stone floor. When Gwaine touched him, Arthur shrank back in fear.

"Shhh, Arthur It’s alright.  I'm sorry it took me so long.  But it's over now you're safe.”  He recognized Morgana’s lifeless body at the foot of the throne, and quickly surmised she must have been the source of the enchantment that had plagued the kingdom.  He shuddered at the thought of what Morgana could have done to Arthur to cause this amount of distress, and then returned his attention toward his King.  “She's dead Arthur, Morgana's dead. Can you see her? She's right there and she's dead.  She can't hurt you any longer.  It's safe now. It's over. Please Arthur, please open your eyes. This nightmare has ended.”  Gwaine lurched up and grabbed a cape from one of the tables.  With a single stride he returned Arthur and gently tucked it around him.

Arthur opened his eyes “Gwaine?” He rasped. “Is that really you? You’re back?”

“Yes Arthur, it's me. I brought Merlin back and he saved us, all of us.  You don't have to be afraid anymore. It's over, I promise.”

Arthur reached out to the cloth and wrapped it around him. "Who, what, Merlin? No, Merlin isn't here anymore,” he whispered hoarsely.

“He came back Arthur." Gwaine replied softly. "He came back to Camelot to save you. Morgana is dead.  See?  She’s right over there.  She can never hurt you again. It's going to be all right. Merlin's fixed it.”

Arthur began to keen and rock back and forth, as though he could not make himself believe that the nightmare had truly ended.  He kept staring at Morgana’s lifeless form, crumpled by the foot of the throne.

As Gwaine’s full attention was focused on the weeping King, Merlin turned away and staggered from the throne room. His mind, his body, and even his soul, were slowly coming apart. He simply could not endure the pain of a thousand memories tearing at his mind. His only instinct was to flee. He knew he could not remain Camelot, that he no longer had a home here. Before anyone could stop him, or even take notice of his presence, he staggered through the corridors, and out the castle doors moving slowly towards the stables. He entered the first stall he saw, and threw himself upon an unsaddled horse.  Alone, he rode out from Camelot barely aware of his surroundings.  He drifted in and out of consciousness as the horse slowly took him further from Camelot. After a few hours, finding himself in clearing, Merlin fell from the horse, and then using the last of his strength, he called out to the Great Dragon “ ** _Arthracana Emala Suva Tane Komenta.  Gashoot Manakess_** _”_ he shouted as he collapsed to the ground, unconscious once again.  Kilgharrah arrived a few minutes after Merlin’s call, and seeing the frail, unconscious body lying in the grass, gathered him gently into his great claws, and rose into the sky, carrying the wounded warlock back to his cave.


	9. What Remains Behind

While Merlin had healed Arthur’s body (something only Gwaine knew of), deep scars remained inside his mind and upon his soul.  Every time someone called him ‘King Arthur’, all that echoed in his mind was Morgana’s taunt ‘King of Shame’.  Arthur could not find any peace, even after Morgana’s body was burnt, and her ashes scattered.

Every time Gwen smiled at him, his stomach turned. He knew he was not the powerful and benevolent King they saw, he knew that Morgana _had_ defeated him. He felt vile and unclean no matter how many baths he took.  As reports traveled in from throughout the realm, Arthur felt the constant taste of bile in his mouth.  Every decision Arthur made, trying to undo the damage Morgana had inflicted upon his people, reminded him of his failure.  Every time someone praised his just and noble decisions, it only sent him deeper into despair.

It wasn’t until Gwaine returned from the lower town, and privately told Arthur that the townspeople believed that John, the cobbler, had voluntarily taken his family and left Camelot, that Arthur broke.

He screamed at Gwaine, at the world, but mostly at himself. His fury, held in check for so long, broke over him and he lashed out in the small chamber, throwing objects and screaming at everyone and no one. Gwaine made a tactical error of trying to interrupt Arthur, who swung towards him, directing all his rage at the hapless knight.

"What do you think you know about anything! You spend your nights in the tavern drinking your cares away, ignoring your duty. THEN – then, you disobey my edict and bring _another_ sorcerer into Camelot. Why would I ever trust you?”

"I swore an oath to serve you, and Camelot. I believed you, I believed in you, when you said nobility was about honor, not power.” Gwaine retorted, his own anger rising.

“What do you know but honor?" Arthur shouted.

“I knew enough to ignore your blind hatred and find Merlin.  Since he’s the one who saved you -- saved all of us, I believe my actions were right.”

“THAT WAS NOT FOR YOU TO DECIDE!!” Arthur roared.

"Well, sire, if you no longer think me loyal or worthy, perhaps I should take my leave."

"Oh yes, run away like you always have Gwaine. Run to the nearest tavern and drown yourself in ale. That's what you do, right? I guess your _oath_ means nothing to you. I wonder, did it ever?”

“I fought beside you Arthur. I fought for Camelot because I believed in you. I thought you believed in real honor and justice. I trusted you weren't just some petty noble covering your royal arse with empty words.”

Arthur stilled and turned white with pain and fury. His silence was more powerful than any of the screaming he'd just done. As the words left Gwaine's mouth, he knew he'd gone too far. He desperately tried to take them back.

"You suffered most of all Arthur. I know that. I didn't mean…." But Gwaine drifted into silence at the look on Arthur's face. The damage had already been done.

“I don't need your pity. Don't ever think you understand anything. You’ll never understand what happened then, and certainly not now. You ‘understand’ nothing about being King and what it means to rule." Arthur said coldly. "You talk about honor and loyalty. Well, maybe it's time you proved it. Why don’t you accomplish something that might actually help Camelot now? Since your Llamhigyn was no more than another lie, perhaps undertaking a true quest would prove your loyalty to the people you swore to protect. Prove your worthiness and defeat a real monster. Surely there are plenty of those to choose from. Leave Camelot, and did not return until you've filled your oath. Your pity is no longer required here. Take it, and leave."

Quietly, Gwaine left the room, and headed towards his quarters.  He packed the few belongings he had acquired in his new home, and left for the stables.

__________________________________

During the next few days, Arthur realized that every conversation he had with Guinevere ended the same.    What little she remembered was accompanied with a vague feeling of dread and anguish, so she busied herself reaching out to as many people as she could to help.  During the nights, after enduring Gwen’s sweet entreaties to return to their ‘normal’ lives, Arthur would make some excuse, and retreat into his old chambers and desperately try to recall a time when he felt strong and vital.  The drapes and furniture that had surrounded him as a young prince gave him the only comfort he desperately needed. But soon, he realized that most, if not all, of the happy memories the room held for him were connected by one single thread. Merlin.  Merlin was the one person in his young life who had always forced him to listen.    
  
Merlin had been the one to teach him what true nobility meant.  Merlin had forced him to look beyond a man’s title and inheritance, and decide their worth through their actions, not their words. Everything always came back to Merlin, as Arthur paced the night away in front of the fireplace in his old quarters. According to Gwaine, Merlin had returned to Camelot, knowing he faced death if he was caught. Merlin returned, knowing only that Camelot was in trouble, and Arthur was in danger.  Yet, even knowing he was hated here, he still saved them all. Then he disappeared again.

 

Merlin had, once again, saved Camelot and expected nothing in return.  Slowly, Arthur began to re-think his opinion of magic, despite his recent experience with it.  He knew Morgana was mad, and the boy was evil, but Merlin had never been cruel nor had he sought any kind of power for himself.  Arthur recalled what Merlin’s had tried to tell him in the dungeon. He began to understand that magic could be used as a sword, to kill or to protect.  In order to fight a battle, one needed a sword.  If Arthur was to fight magic, he needed a magician.  He began to carry Excalibur with him everywhere he went, unconsciously stoking it while deep in thought. Arthur even approached Gaius, to ask him about magic, about Merlin.  But the old man seemed to crumble at the very mention of his apprentice’s name, so Arthur quickly dropped the subject.

Arthur began to look gaunt and haunted, as the sleepless nights and the unending days began to take their toll.  Gaius, Gwen and Sir Leon kept asking him if he was well, but the only answer he had to give, when he was being honest that is, was:

“Not yet.”

__________________________

A few days later, Arthur isolated himself in his old quarters for an entire day, and tried to decide what to do.  He knew he could not hold this calm façade indefinitely, and something had to change.  He had to change, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how to.  The only person he ever could have spoken to was gone.  He’d banished Merlin, the only true friend he’s ever really had.  And he needed him now; now more than ever.  He knew Gwaine had gone to look for Merlin, maybe never to return.  Arthur realized he was alone, and his strength was failing him.  He needed to act soon, or it would be too late.  Early the next morning, having been awake all night debating with himself, he called Gwen, Gaius and Sir Leon to his quarters. 

“I’m leaving Camelot” he announced.  Gwen and Leon immediately began to protest, but he silenced them with a wave. 

“I know how vulnerable we are, and we need help.  As far as I can see, the only hope we have is convincing Merlin to return.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to find him, never mind convince him to return, but I must try.”

Arthur looked at Gaius, who had begun to weep. “You know I’m right.  Only I can do this.  You three must hold the realm together as best you can until I return.”

“Arthur, you cannot leave Camelot.  You are the King.  We need you here.  We cannot afford to look weak.” Sir Leon protested.

“We are weak.” Arthur answered.  “And I must find a way to fix this.  This is my quest, and I cannot afford to fail, or Camelot will fail.  This is my final word.  I am leaving you, Sir Leon, in charge while I am away.  Do everything, anything you can to buy us time and protect our people.  I will return as soon as I can.”

“But where will you go?” Gwen asked.  “You don’t know where Merlin is, and you don’t even know if you can convince him to return.  You’re the one who sent him away,” she reminded him.

“I know.” Arthur said quietly.  “But I must try.  He returned before, to save us.  Now I need to find him and convince him he belongs here.”

“Why you?” she cried, unable to understand his decision.  “You’ve hardly been here, even when you’re in the room.  Have you even been listening to the reports from the outlying districts? Do you realize just how bad this winter will be for our people?  Have you read the grain reports?  Arthur, Camelot needs its King, now more than ever.  We cannot afford your quest.  Not right now.”

“Now is the only time we have.  I will follow Gwaine’s trail.  If anyone can find Merlin, it is him.  I’m sorry, but I have made my decision.  I leave within the hour.”

“What could you possible tell him Arthur?  What more can you ask of him?” Gwen pleaded.  “Do you understand how the nobles will react even if you _can_ convince him to return?”

“I understand Camelot needs him.  From what I’ve discovered, he’s been protecting all of us from magical attacks since the day he arrived.  Our defenses are weak without him.  He might hate me, but he loves Camelot, and we need him.” Arthur stated with a lot more conviction than he actually felt.

Only Gaius looked at Arthur with approval, maybe even pride.  He knew that Arthur had finally listened, and now he was going to set things right.  Gaius knew this quest was a noble one, and that Arthur might just save Camelot yet.

Gwen and Sir Leon remained silent, recognizing the determined look on Arthur's face. They both realized nothing they could say would change his mind. They would have to cope the best they could, pray for Arthur's safe return, and fend off any rumors of their weakness lest another kingdom chose to attack while Arthur was away.  It would be an impossible task, but they determined do the best they could, so that if – no – _when_ Arthur returned with Merlin, Camelot would still be standing.

Arthur, for his part, finally began to feel hopeful. Finally, he'd made his decision.  And for good or bad, he would see it through.  He packed lightly; making sure Excalibur was strapped tightly to his side.  Then he called for his horse to be made ready. Arthur was finally taking action. The one thing he always excelled at.


	10. What the Spirit Dreams

Merlin slowly came awake to find himself in a cave.  He sat up, realized he was naked, but somehow it didn't seem very important to him.  Nothing seemed to feel real, as though everything was muffled or missing, or somehow – just off.  Merlin couldn't quite find it in himself to worry.  He couldn't even remember how he had gotten here.  He could almost remember being in Camelot and feeling overwhelmed by his powers and other things, but again, the memories felt stifled and distant.  He could recall certain moments if he concentrated hard enough, but it was exhausting, and besides, Merlin couldn’t seem to get too upset about them.  He felt like some part of him had been cut off, so he just allowed himself to drift without much thought.

After a while, a pool at the edge of the cave caught his attention.  A soft blue light emanated from it, lighting the small cave.  The longer Merlin stared at the pool, the clearer it appeared, until Merlin could see ripples on the surface and the sharp curved edge where the water stopped.  Merlin realized that the pool wasn’t natural, it had to have been made by someone, or something, but he couldn’t feel too alarmed by that thought.  He just accepted it, just as he accepted his lack of clothing.

Movement from the middle of the pool drew his attention once again.  Bubbles and ripples begun erupting growing stronger each minute.  He watched the light reflected on the cave wall grow as the blue glow from the pool began to burn brighter and brighter.  Merlin had to lift his arm to shade his eyes as the glare now filled the cave with a piercing light.

Merlin dropped his arm when the light faded to a tolerable level.  There, in the center of the pool, stood three indistinct shapes.  Once again, the more Merlin concentrated, the more the three figures came into focus, until Merlin could see three people standing waist high in the pool.  As he stared them, he recognized them.  He knew them quite well actually; the three people standing in the middle of the pool were Lancelot, Freya, and Nimueh.  Surprisingly enough, Merlin didn't feel too shocked that this new turn of events.  Logically he knew that sitting naked at the edge of an obvious magical pool should at the very least concern him, but he couldn't seem to summon the energy to do anything but stare at the new arrivals, and wait for them to do whatever they were here to do.

Lancelot was the first to speak.  "Hello old friend," he said with a soft smile.

"Hello," Merlin answered softly.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Freya called to him.  Nimueh merely nodded at him.

Now that the greetings, as such, were out of the way, Merlin gathered himself a little bit, and asked,

“Where exactly are we?"

"In between," Freya answered.

"Oh," Merlin answered, clearly not an understanding the answer, but too exhausted to care.

"This is the place between life and death Emyrs, since you have harnessed the power to control that, perhaps you might pay attention?” Nimueh said sharply.

“Give him a moment.” Lancelot interrupted Nimueh.  “This place is not easy for anyone to comprehend my friend." He directed to Merlin.

“In between life and death, you say,” Merlin said, “in a cave?”

“Yes,” Nimueh stated.

“Well, how did I get here? And what are you doing here? Am I dead? I know you're dead," Merlin said pointing at Nimueh.  “I killed you.”

“Yes, you killed my body on the Isle of the Blessed, but you are not yet powerful enough to erase my being entirely.” She said haughtily.

“Okay,” Merlin said, trying to gather his wits. 

“You've been given a choice Merlin.” Freya said.  “You can choose to come with us to Avalon.  You’re not quite dead but you stand on its edge.  I mean, this is very difficult to explain, but, you can exist,” she pointed to Lancelot and herself, “ _in between_ as we do.  When you saved me, you helped me become something more than I could ever dream of being.  I’m no longer just some powerless peasant girl, trapped by forces out of my control.  I have meaning here.  I have power here.  I am more here.  I have more here than I could have ever dreamt of Merlin.  I have more than just the lake and the mountains.  I have a purpose now.  I have a part to play in destiny, and no one can ever take that away from me.  Here, I’m a Lady.  I had the power to help you when you needed me.  And I have helped you, and all of Camelot.  I can do more here, be more — here.  This is where I belong.  And now you face the same choice I did.  The same things that limit you can be cast aside.  You can truly be yourself.  You can accomplish what you have been destined to do.  You will live forever Merlin.  Your name and your deeds will become legend.  We can be together, work together here.  You don’t have to hide who you are anymore.  You don’t have to be alone.  Come, just take my hand and we’ll be together, just like you promised in the tunnel you hid me in.  You saved me then.  Let me save you now,” she pleaded softly.

“You do not have the right to dictate the terms here,” Nimueh snapped at Freya.  “You cannot influence his choice, nor can you protect him from his choices.  This is one of the five portals that lie between the land of the living and the dead,” she explained turning toward Merlin.  “What sits here before us is your soul, not your body.  To exist here, means to serve, for eternity and to do that, you must cast away your body and allow your soul to return with us to Avalon.  It is true you will never die, but you will never live again.  You took it upon yourself to decide the fate of Camelot, and now you must pay the price.  Living death or an eternity of service lies ahead.  You must choose.”

“He is NOT destined to die,” Freya shouted.

“It is his choice,” Nimueh answered her curtly.

“How did you wind up here Lance?” Merlin asked distractedly.  “I mean, you died; twice actually.  How exactly did you wind up here with them?”

“Once Morgana cast that coin into the pool of Nemhain, she bought back my soul from the dead, but it was hers to command.  I had no free will, and what I did under her command lies heavy in my heart.  But you saved me Merlin.  When I killed myself in the dungeons, I only killed the flesh she had brought to life.  When you touched me, and sent me onward into the Lake of Avalon, you granted peace to my tormented soul.  Since then I've been here waiting.“

“Waiting? For what?” Merlin asked.

“For you, my friend.” He answered softly, “for you.”

“Oh.  And now I’m supposed to choose? Between what?  I mean, I’m still not sure what exactly I am supposed to choose between?” Merlin asked.

“I am only here to guide you Merlin.  I cannot take your decision from you.  I only wanted to make sure you understand that neither Nimueh nor Freya can shape your destiny.  Only you have the power to decide what you do next.  As Nimueh said, you, here, is your inner self, your soul.  The magic you cast in Camelot has rendered it from it's vessel.  The body you left above will wither into nothingness if your soul is not reunited with it soon.  You can join us in the Mists of Avalon if you choose, or you can decide to stay here in this cave until your body succumbs to its wounds.  The longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to rejoin your body.  Your magic lies within your body Merlin, your soul contains only your heart and your intentions.  I don't think you have enough energy left to bind your soul back into your body.” Lancelot tried to clarify.

“My soul?  My body?  None of this makes any sense, and I’m so tired Lance.  And …. I don’t feel right, or -- connected somehow.  I can't decide anything right now.” Merlin mumbled tierdly.

“YOU MUST!” Nimueh thundered.  “This is your time.  He's already explained to you that the power you called upon to save Camelot, the one’s you've killed, have torn your soul from your body.  The longer you wait, the weaker your body will become, until there is no choice but living death.  Your soul will remain trapped here in this cave for eternity unless you choose to come into the pool and join us.  Since you are destined to serve Warlock, the choice seems obvious.  After all, you should be accustomed to serving by now; you’ve learned to do it so well at the foot of the King.”

“Well, the last time I tried to make a deal with you, you lied to me and tried to kill my mother, and Gaius.  Somehow, I don’t think I’ll be following any of your advice.” Merlin answered testily.

“You can come here Merlin.” Freya pleaded trying to mitigate Nimueh’s anger.  “Perhaps not alive, but you will continue to exist, here, with me.”

“NO!  It is his duty to remain and serve, not become your playmate!” Nimueh barked.  “He must pay for the choice’s he has made.”

“But the cost is not for you to decide.” Lancelot interrupted Nimueh’s rant again.  “Only Merlin’s decision holds weight here.  Only he can decide the price of his actions.  The Old Religion has made this very clear.  And I for one do not believe his actions have been anything but honorable.”

“He killed our kind!  He stood against his own!” Nimueh shouted at Lancelot.

“He acted to protected Camelot.” Lancelot declared, looking at Merlin.  “He acted with honor.”

Merlin smiled shyly at Lancelot.  “I think you give me too much credit Lance.  Most of the time, I didn’t really choose anything.  I just reacted to whatever was happening at the time.  I know the mistakes I’ve made, and I’m not too sure what I deserve.  I don’t even know how I ...  I killed Morgana.  I just, one minute she was rushing at me, and then … she was dead on the floor.  How could I do that Lancelot?  How can I have the power to kill someone just because I’m angry?  Maybe I don’t deserve to live.”

“You deserve the right to choose your own path.  Just because the destination was foretold before you were born, does not mean you cannot choose the path to take to get you there.  Freya is right.  You are a thing of legend Merlin.  They will speak of you long after you've gone.  Your choice now cannot change that.  Please believe me when I say that you deserve far more than you think you do.  Every choice you have made, even when you had to choose quickly; they were choices nevertheless.  And, whether right or wrong, your choices have always been made from love.  Your capacity to love is boundless Merlin, and it is what sets you apart from everyone else.” Lancelot said as he moved closer to Merlin.

“But Nimueh is right.  I have caused a lot of pain.  Even if I didn't mean to, my mistakes have cost a great deal." Merlin said.

"You are human Merlin.  We all make mistakes." Lancelot said.

"Am I?  Human that is.  Am I really human or am I some kind of magical freak?" Merlin asked, desperate for an answer.

"Yes and no." Freya interrupted their quiet discussion moving forward as well.  "Yes, you were born with magic and you are human; but, you are also something else.  You magic is so strong.  More powerful than you even realize.  You are destined to never die.  Even Nimueh cannot refute that.  The Old Religion has foretold it.  Please Merlin, you cannot remain here.  You must find the strength to live.  Come with us.  Take my hand and follow me, and _live_."

"But, I won't be alive; I'll just… exist, right?" Merlin asked.

"Yes." Freya answered sadly.  “But it is better than the living-death you will endure here Merlin.  We,” she gestured to all three of them in the pool, “exist to serve those who come to us for aide, but we still endure.  That is something.  You know I have served you in the past.  I protected Excalibur from anyone who would take it from its rightful owner.  I became _The Lady of the Lake_ , Merlin, and not just some poor cursed peasant girl.  You saved me.  Now let me save you …. Please … come with me.”

“You go too far girl.” Nimueh snapped.  “You cannot bend his decision to your desire.  Either he will serve or he will die.  Either way, he will pay for his mistakes.”

"I'm so tired.  I can't think.  Everything is so confusing, and I can't …. I just can't move, or decide anything.  This ‘Great Destiny’ everyone keeps talking about, what am I supposed to do about that? Is it over? Have I done everything I'm supposed to?  I – I just don't know.  I'm so tired.  How am I supposed to choose anything when I'm so tired?  Maybe Gwaine, or Gaius, or even Arthur would know what to do, but I don't.” Merlin pleaded in a small voice.

"I trust you Lancelot, and you keep saying I have to decide.” Merlin continued after a moment.  “I care about you too Freya. I remember what Isaid in the tunnel, and I really thought I could just run away with you, but it wasn’t real, it was just a dream I had.  I wanted to run away with you, but if I had, everything would have been ruined.  How am I supposed to know that it’s the right thing to do now? I can even understand you Nimueh, even if I don’t trust you.  I don't think you're evil; you're just as trapped by your destiny as I am mine.  But if I really am destined to serve, I don't know if this is the right way to do it.  Just giving up everything I am and following you into Avalon doesn't seem right somehow.  But I'm exhausted.  I can't decide.  I just can't.  Please tell me something.  Tell me how to choose."

Freya began to speak, but Lancelot shushed her.  He understood that they had already said too much.  They could not influence Merlin any more than they all ready had.   Nimueh began to argue quietly with Lancelot, and Freya chimed in, their voices harsh, but too quiet for Merlin to hear.  As the three figures moved away and continued arguing with each other in the pool Merlin just sat, huddled on the cave floor, miserable.


	11. What the King Learns

Arthur found Gwaine in a small town, ten days hard ride outside of Camelot.  He had been following Gwaine's path as it led northward. 

Gwaine woke up that morning, settled his tab at the inn and moved toward the stables, prepared to head out despite his hangover.  Until last night, he had neither seen not heard any sign of the missing Warlock.  Now, he was following a tenuous lead he had heard in a local tavern (of course). He came to an abrupt halt as he spotted Arthur charging into the town, his steed covered in foam, a sure sign Arthur had pushed his mount beyond its endurance to find him.

“Gwaine,” Arthur stated as he came to a halt.

“ _Sire_ ,” Gwaine replied, making the title sound like a curse.  He obviously was still smarting over their last encounter.  “What brings you to this corner of the realm?”

“What news?” Arthur asked ignoring Gwaine’s surly attitude.

“News, _Sire_?  I just heard word of a dragon that’s been sighted flying over the far side of the White Mountains near the ruins of Daobeth.  It seems possible, as the castle, once the strongest in all of Albion, was destroyed by dragons an age ago.   I plan to ride further north to continue my search, sire.”

“You’re hunting a dragon you say?” Arthur questioned.

“Yes.  Since it must be the last dragon in existence,” Gwaine remarked pointedly at Arthur recalling his own encounter with the ‘last’ dragon.  “I thought it would be an appropriate quest for you, _Sire_.  The villagers tell of it acting very strangely.  They say that it attacked a caravan several days ride from here.”

“And you think attacking a caravan is unusual behavior for a dragon?” Arthur asked sarcastically but secretly interested at the idea of another dragon, or perhaps the same dragon he believed he had killed at the word of his former servant.  It was one of the many things that had crossed Arthur's mind as he had paced the night away in his old chambers, trying to recall all of the victories and adventures he had survived since Merlin first came to Camelot.  The fact that the dragon's body had never been found had forced him to re-think if he had indeed killed it, or something (or someone) more powerful had driven it away from the castle.

"Yes, _Sire,”_ Gwaine said, still stiffly using Arthur’s title to let him know how far their friendship had fallen.  “The dragon attacked a caravan and carried off some bedding.  Not livestock, not horses, nor men, it only struck the cart containing _bedding_.  I believe that qualifies as unusual behavior for a dragon.”

“I thought you would be spending your time searching for your friend, Merlin.  You remember him certainly.” Arthur responded cuttingly.

“Oh, we’re allowed to say his name now, _Sire_?  I thought you had no need for a magical ‘traitor’ in Camelot.” Gwaine said snidely.

“I have had time to think, and perhaps I acted rashly.  We both know Merlin is no traitor Gwaine.” Arthur responded, his anger vanishing.

“I have known it all along, _Sire_.  You were the one who threw him away without a thought.  Let me guess, Camelot is in trouble again, and you need him.  What makes you think he needs you, _Sire_?”  Gwaine questioned him as though the answer would decide what Gwaine did next.

“What happened between Merlin and I remains between us.  If Merlin chooses to remain where he is, I will have to accept that.”  Arthur said with more pain than he cared to admit.  Then Arthur looked around the small square.

“I refused to discuss with you in the public square.”  Arthur pronounced.  As he did need information, and Gwaine’s help to find Merlin, he calmly asked “What makes you think a dragon can lead you to Merlin?  Unlike your Llamhigyn, this dragon is apparently real, and if it is the one I believe it could be, Merlin was the one who freed it.  Tell me Gwaine,” Arthur continued as he swung down from his horse, “what will you do when you find it?  Politely ask him where Merlin is before he engulfs you in flame? That is, after you’ve made it past the Wyverns and other beasts that lay between here and there.”

“I haven’t worked out all the details yet, _Sire_ , but I have traveled this road before.  If you recall, I traveled this road to find Merlin the last time Camelot needed him.  Perhaps he has come this way again.  And if the dragon is the same one as you say, perhaps this dragon will lead me towards him,” replied Gwaine. 

“So we are going on a hunt to find a dragon that collects bedding, and ask for news of an errant Warlock.” Arthur scoffed.

“Well, _Sire_ , you are the one who commanded me to complete a quest.  Since this could be the last dragon, one you obviously didn’t kill, and, if it is the dragon Merlin freed from the dungeons, it may be protecting him, or at least know where he could be found.  This is the best….  No, this is the _only_ lead I’ve had since you ordered me on this quest, _Sire_ , and I intend to follow it as far as necessary.  As for ‘we’ traveling to find this creature, well, S _ire_ , doesn’t Camelot need its King, considering all that had happened there, _Sire_?”

“We don’t have time for this now Gwaine.  I am coming with you whether you approve or not.  Wait here until I return with a fresh horse.  That’s an order Gwaine.  Remember, I‘m still your King.”

“Yes S _ire_.”

“And stop with the ‘sire’ Gwaine.  We both know how badly I fouled up.  Therefore, I’m the only one who can fix this.  So go prepare another pack of provisions and make sure you have a spare bedroll for Merlin, because we are bringing him back to Camelot with us.”

"To burn?" Gwaine challenged.

“To live,” Arthur replied, as he moved off to speak with the stable owner.

________________________

It took the two men several days to make their way through the White Mountains, during which time they come to an understanding, or at least a truce.  Arthur didn’t push Gwaine’s loyalty toward Camelot and its King, and Gwaine didn’t remind Arthur how badly he had treated Merlin, the most honorable man Gwaine had ever met.  They tried to come up with some kind of strategy to handle the dragon, but neither man could figure out how to make a dragon talk.  Eventually, they decided they would find it first, and hopefully, they would discover some weakness during their reconnaissance.  The best idea they had come up with so far was to use Merlin’s name and hope it would be enough to distract it, if this was indeed the dragon Merlin had saved.  Of course how to get close enough to the dragon to speak with it, before it engulfed them in flames, they hadn’t been worked out yet.

Eventually, they spotted the dragon circling overhead, west of their position.  They followed its progress until they saw it disappear into a craggy ridge.  They set out in that direction as quickly as they could push their mounts.  They made their way up and down the treacherous paths until they reached a flat outcrop just before the plateau they witnessed the dragon enter and exit several times while they traveled.  Finally, when the horses could go no further, they secured them under an out cropping, and proceeded cautiously on foot.

Their only plan so far was to approach the dragon as quietly as possible, so they crept on.  Just before nightfall, they made their way to the ledge outside of what was obviously the dragon’s lair.  They could see bones spread around the cliff face, and scorch marks around several rocks at a cave’s entrance.  They still had no real plan, but nevertheless, they drew their swords and cautiously crept forward to scout out any weaknesses they could discover.

“You need not scuttle like rats upon my doorstep, Pendragon” the dragon spoke calmly.  It was perched on a craggy outcropping above their head the entire time they had been crawling towards the cave.  He had felt their presence approaching his lair long before they had even abandoned their horses.  Both Arthur and Gwaine jumped and swirled, weapons at the ready, at the sound of his voice.  They finally had a chance to speak to the dragon, but neither man was prepared to be caught out in such a manner.  So much for planning Arthur thought, grimacing.

“I believe we have never been formerly introduced, although I knew your father well.  I am Kilgharrah, the last of the Great Dragons, and you are Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.”  The dragon ignored Gwaine’s existence entirely, as though his presence had absolutely no meaning there.

Arthur, seeing that this conversation was exactly what they had hoped for, faced the dragon, and humbly acknowledged, “Yes.  I am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot.  I have come in search of Merlin, my ... friend.”

“I have watched you for quite some time now.  I have listened and learned of you since you were a small child.  Much depends upon what you do here.”  The dragon rumbled.

While the dragon concentrated on Arthur, Gwaine slowly crept toward the mouth of the cave.  The moment he felt he was beyond the dragon’s reach, he dove toward the entrance, determined to find any traces of the man he had come so far to find.

Meanwhile, Arthur could feel the dragon’s breath and he tensed waiting for the fire that was sure to follow Gwaine’s bold move.  But, instead, the dragon continued to ignore Gwaine’s presence, and his breath continued surrounding Arthur in a warm current from above.  Arthur had not felt so warm in such a long time.  It was warmth he unconsciously associated with Merlin; when he helped him into the steaming bath after a hard days training.  It felt like the feathery touch of Merlin’s hands on his back as he rubbed one of Gaius’s lotions over the aching muscles on his back. 

Part of Arthur’s mind wanted to rebel.  To fight this obvious magical enchantment, but his body was too tired and his soul was too scarred to resist the comforting warmth for more than a few heartbeats.  He felt himself give sway to the comfort he needed so badly since the day he had thrown away the only man he called friend.

Softly, the dragon’s voice began to echo inside his mind.  Arthur startled and then settled as the low gravelly voice began to tell of a tale written in the stars, generation upon generations ago.  A story of a young man born with magic.  A boy forced to leave his home and mother because of a small village filled with fear and suspicion.  A man, who, despite all odds, had fought against anyone or anything that would harm his chosen home of Camelot.  The dragon weaved a tale of a boy who would drink from a poisoned chalice to protect a spoiled prince.  Who would bargain with the greatest sorceress of her time and offer his own life in place of the young man he had begun to think of as his friend.  A young man who would watch his own father, the last of the Dragon Lords, die, yet still ride on toward Camelot to save the kingdom that would see him burn.  A man whose powers continued to grow beyond all measure, yet who never once gave in to the lust for power or fame.  His tale weaved the story of a man, who had pledged himself to a newly crowned King, believing that his rule would unite all of Albion and usher in a time of peace.  A man who believed that Camelot could become place where magic was not feared, but would be judged solely upon how it was wielded.

All of this and more floated through Arthur’s mind as he saw and felt familiar faces and events - not through his own eyes - but through Merlin’s.  He felt Merlin’s fear and anger as he confronted Nimueh on the Isle of the Blessed.  He felt Merlin’s pain as he lied to Arthur about the evils of magic to prevent him from slaying his father, the King, in a cold rage.  Every act of Merlin’s courage, loyalty, and love flowed through Arthur’s mind as the dragon’s breath surrounded him with warmth, knowledge, and the true meaning behind _two sides of the same coin_.  He recognized the warmth he felt, because Merlin had surrounded him with its loving embrace for such a long time, while never believing his love would ever be recognized or returned.

Arthur actually could sense Merlin’s feelings change with each passing adventure.  There was no exact starting point, but by the time Arthur faced the Unicorn’s challenge and drank the poison to save Merlin, Merlin’s boyish admiration had changed into something much deeper.  Arthur could feel Merlin fighting the pull of those dreams and feelings.  He could even feel the ache inside Merlin’s chest while he stood by and watched Gwen and Arthur marry.  He cheered with the rest because he wanted Arthur to be happy; that was all Merlin ever wanted.  He always tried to put everyone else’s needs before his own.  He didn’t play the bumbling manservant; he honestly tried his best to be exactly what he believed Arthur needed him to be, ignoring the cost to his own well-being.  Oh, he definitely could be as cranky and annoying as anyone.  Merlin certainly had no problem moaning and complaining whenever the mood struck, but he never failed to make sure Arthur had everything he _needed_ (which occasionally Merlin believed to be a good kick in the pants).  Merlin hid his true self because he honestly believed it was best for Arthur. He never wanted to force Arthur to choose.  The things he confessed to in the dungeons were his failures, but Arthur could see now, that every decision Merlin made came from Merlin’s deep well of love and his sense of duty.  His failures did not define him, his intentions did.

Arthur’s mind swam watching Merlin tackle unimaginable task after impossible choice: the dragon, Morgana, The Questing Beast, The Dragonlord.  With each new image, the dragon’s voice told Merlin’s real story – their story.  He saw Excalibur imbued with the dragon’s power, and then cast into the mists of Avalon until it was needed.  He saw Merlin place the sword in the stone for Arthur alone to claim just when he needed the power and faith the sword represented the most.  The images went on and on until one glowing fact remained constant.  Merlin loved Arthur.  He loved him with his whole being, and he never expected Arthur to return any of it.  Merlin accepted his role, believing he was somehow the ‘lesser’ part of their shared destiny.  Not because of Arthur’s title, or Arthur’s ingrained sense of superiority, but because Merlin believed that to serve the Once and Future King _was_ his destiny.  He believed that his sacrifice was necessary to ensure Arthur and Camelot’s ideals of chivalry lived beyond memory.  Merlin may have worn his heart on his sleeve, but he kept his innermost desires securely locked away, so that he would never be corrupted by his power, and Merlin was powerful; very powerful.  Merlin recognized the sharp edge of the sword he described to Arthur in the dungeon, but as always, he was prepared to impale himself on it the moment he thought it was necessary.  Merlin thought his love was selfish, so it needed to be denied.  Instead, he did all he could to protect Arthur, Gwen, Gaius, Lancelot, Gwaine and so many other people he loved or barely knew.  Merlin’s cheers for Gwen and Arthur during their wedding were as heartfelt as they were heartbreaking. 

_________________________

As the images in his mind faded, and the warmth Arthur felt gave way to the damp chill on the ledge outside the cave; Arthur knew what he had seen was _truth_.  No enchantment could possibly have held sway over the _truth_.  Arthur felt it in the core of his bones.  He knew beyond doubt, that this new found knowledge was indeed as deep as the earth beneath his feet, and as high as the stars above his head.  Then, he opened his eyes he saw the dragon’s piercing stare boring into him.

“Know this young Pendragon” Kilgharrah spoke.  “You have damaged this sacred bond, the coin of destiny that has bound both you and Merlin.  Worse yet, Merlin has allowed it to happen, and has paid the price for its imbalance.  His fear of harming your kingdom and undermining your rule forced him to endure your derision, your ignorance, and your petulant demands.  He no longer believes himself to be true or worthy.  He has come to look upon his powers as nothing but a curse, and in doing so, has begun a slide into despair and self-hatred that can only end in his death or madness.  Now, the future of Albion lies at risk.  Only you can restore balance to the coin you have spent so freely.  Only you can accept Merlin as your equal, not as a vassal or servant, but as your true equal.  Only then can balance be restored.” 

After a few moments, Arthur bowed to the dragon, acknowledging his wisdom, and followed Gwaine into the cavern without a word.  He knew the time for words was long past; now Arthur had to act.  Arthur saw Gwaine on his knees in the center of a good sized cavern, crouched over Merlin, who was curled into a fetal ball under a pile of bedding.  Tears streamed from Gwaine’s eyes as they flashed with rage at the sight of Arthur. 

“I can’t reach him!” Gwaine cried.  “There’s something here.  I don’t know what it is, but I can’t touch him.” Arthur could see some kind of shimmering barrier all around Merlin.  It glowed, not the golden aura Arthur now associated with Merlin, but instead it shone with a kaleidoscope of colors shimmering and rippling like water.  Gwaine kept trying to penetrate it with his fist, his fingers, and even his teeth, but he could not punch through the barrier to reach the unmoving man below it.

“Help me,” Gwaine cried.  “We must reach him before the beast returns.”

“The dragon will not interfere, Gwaine.” Arthur decalred softly, observing Merlin closely.  He could see just how sallow Merlin’s face appeared below the dark mop of his hair.  He also spotted Merlin’s hand, jutting out from the edge of the bedding.  It was bleeding slowly.  He realized that the dragon had not heeded Gwaine’s presence, because his strength could not save Merlin.  Arthur remembered the words he had spoken to Gwaine back in the small town where he had found him.  This was his mess, and only he could fix it.

Arthur kneeled on the other side of Merlin’s prone form, and without a clear plan or thought, he unsheathed Excalibur and stared at it for just a moment.  He recalled the dragon’s voice describing how it was formed for Arthur’s hand alone.  How it had been imbued with the power to pierce any magical enchantment.  It was the only piece of Merlin he had not had destroyed in his rage, and now he would use it to save the man who had created it for him.  Arthur let go of the pommel and moved his hand along the upper edge of the sword.  He could feel the sting of its edge as it cut along the inside of his palm.  Ignoring the pain, Arthur’s bloody hand, still holding Excalibur, reached in, past the bubble of magic that lay over Merlin’s skin.  Before Gwaine could react, Arthur turned to him and said “Watch over him until we return.  He will need your strength to keep his heart alive.”  And with that, Arthur placed his bloody hand upon Merlin’s, blending their spilled blood until a golden light burst forth.  Gwaine blinked at the flash, and when he could focus his eyes, Arthur had disappeared, but he could touch Merlin’s body now.  He reached to cradle the frail man in his arms.

___________________

Arthur felt as though he had dropped thousands of feet.  He fell to his knees inside a small cave filled with a blue light.  He could see Merlin, sitting naked along the edge of a small pool.  Arthur knew Merlin’s body was still above with Gwaine, but he recognized _this_ Merlin as the true one.  This was the man he had come to save.  It seemed as though he had come at an inopportune time however, because neither Merlin, nor the three people he observed standing waist deep in the pool seemed to notice his arrival.  Arthur got to his feet, and approached the group.  He instantly recognized Lancelot as one of the three in the pool, and he watched the two other woman in the pool, arguing passionately with each other while Merlin sat quietly on the edge of the pool, as though he was awaiting their verdict.  Arthur decided to act, since he could not formulate a plan until he knew exactly who and how Merlin was being held here.

Arthur walked over to Merlin and dropped to sit next to him.  “Well hello Merlin.  Whatever are you doing here?”

Merlin looked up at him, shock clearly written across his too thin features.  “Arthur,” he whispered.

“Merlin,” Arthur replied just as quietly.  “I’ve come to rescue you.”

“I don’t need rescuing Arthur” Merlin said listlessly.  “I just have to decide if I’m supposed to die here, or return with them,” Merlin motioned towards the three figures in the pool, ”to Avalon.”

At Merlin’s words, all three people stopped speaking and turned their attention towards both men.  While both Freya and Nimueh looked angry at Arthur’s intrusion, Lancelot began to look hopeful.

“Ah, Lancelot.  You I recognize.  But who are you?” Arthur asked turning towards the women.

"I am Nimueh, the High Priestess of the Old Religion." She replied sounding rigid and haughtier than any noble woman Arthur had ever heard.

Then Merlin motioned to the young woman and said, “That's Freya,” just as she stated,

“I am the Lady of the Lake, the woman you killed, and the keeper of that sword you carry.” She replied.

“Freya? Lady? My sword?” Arthur asked Merlin, ignoring the three in the pool.  Arthur pretended to be ignorant of any deeper explanations so that he could prolong their conversation until he could devise a plan to save Merlin from their clutches.  He didn’t trust Nimueh at all, and he realized he actually felt a little jealous of Freya — the Lady — or whomever she called herself.  His only hope of saving Merlin lay with Lancelot, but he had no idea how to request his help without alerting the others.  He knew Lancelot had always loved Merlin like a friend, and that he owed him a great deal.  Perhaps if he could direct his comments towards him, Lancelot would realize that Arthur cared for Merlin too.  Meanwhile, he listed to Merlin prattle on as his mind furiously devised and rejected plan after plan.

“Yes, well, she was Freya, before, in Camelot.  The witch finder brought her, and I tried to save her, but she was cursed.  She was the Bastet you slew.  You had to, I know that, but you see it wasn't really her fault.  She had been cursed and she couldn't help it when, well, when she became that beast.  But it wasn't really her, it was the curse you see.” Merlin began to explain confusedly.  Arthur settled down to hear the whole story.  “So, after you killed her, I brought her to the Lake.  And, well, afterwards, when the Fisher King gave me the vial of water to help save Camelot, Freya was inside of it.  I mean, the Lady of the Lake, had left me a message inside since it was full of the water from the lake of Avalon.” Merlin nodded towards Freya.  “She had agreed to guard Excalibur before, because everyone kept using it.  It was made for you.  I, it was forged … I used my magic and, well, the Dragon helped, and Excalibur was made for you, you see, but then other people kept using it, so I had to put it someplace safe, and the lake seemed the best, and, well Freya was waiting there, and she agreed to help me.  I mean us.  She kept it safe until we needed it.  So she's really both Freya and The Lady.” Merlin finished running out of breath.  If Arthur had not just seen these event’s thanks to the dragon, he would have been completely at sea, but as it was, he just nodded at Merlin.

“Yes, well, that clears things up." Arthur answered.  “So she's dead.  Lancelot is dead.  Nimueh is dead.  So, Merlin, what exactly are you doing here? Because you're not dead Merlin.  I know you're not dead, since I just left Gwaine with your body somewhere up there.” Arthur pointed upwards.  “So the question is, how exactly to we get you,” Arthur pointed at Merlin, “back into the body you left up there?”

“Not so fast young Lordling.” Nimueh interrupted.  “The question of life and death is not so easily answered.  There is more here than you could possibly understand.  Merlin must answer for his actions.  He must decide whether to remain here or retreat to Avalon.  You have no power here.  Merlin alone can decide his fate.  The role you played pushing him to the brink has finished.  Now hold your tongue.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Arthur replied calmly, his eyes never leaving Merlin’s.  “You see, I’ve just had a rather long lesson on destiny, and it would seem as though I still have a part to play here.  You, however,” Arthur tuned his gaze upon Nimueh, “don’t exactly have the best reputation for knowing what’s best for Merlin.”

“And you do?” Freya questioned Arthur.  “You cast him aside.  You’ve already made your choice.  Now, Merlin must decide his own path.”

“Oh, I think I’ll stick around anyway.  I do have a vested interest here, as I’ve just traveled hundreds of leagues to bring Merlin home.”

“Home?” Merlin asked softly, as though the word felt foreign and awkward in his mouth.

“Yes, Merlin, home — where you belong.” Arthur stated with more conviction than he really felt.

“You believe you have power here Pendragon?  Hah.  Know this, you stand before one of the five portals that lay between the land of the living, and that of the dead.  To stand before it, is to be judged.  No one can survive here long.  You certainly can’t.  Your title has no power here, this is the place of the Old Religion.  And your ignorance will be your undoing.  There is no escape from this place unless you complete a ritual of death.” Nimueh proclaimed.

“Wait Arthur.  Be careful.  She can twist words around to mean anything.  Don’t make any deals with her.” Merlin quickly stated.

“Ah …. A ritual of death – or a deathly ritual? Which is it?” Arthur parroted back clearly confused, but lancelot broke in before Nimueh could explain further.

“Wait … yes, or course, maybe?” Lancelot thought aloud excitedly.  “Now that you are both here, it might work.  It – it could be a ritual of death, Arthur” Lancelot answered excitedly.  “Perhaps … yes … it could be as simple as La petite mort.  That should work if …. It is called the little death Arthur.” Lancelot turned his piercing stare toward Arthur hoping he would understand what was at stake here.  “It’s an orgasm.  You must both reach orgasm if you are to avoid real death.  There is no food here, nor drinkable water.  You will both soon die here unless you complete a _symbolic ritual of death_. That could, possibly, return both of you to your bodies, but it would require some very powerful magic.”

“Orgasm?” both men simultaneously exclaimed in horror.

“Yes.  It is also known as the little death.  For a small window of time, when the body reaches its climax, the heart stops beating, and time itself can stand still, if only for a bare moment.  This is one way the ritual of death can be completed.  If it is combined with powerful healing magic, it might just return you to your bodies, fully healed.  I … I think it’s possible.” Lancelot quickly explained.

“Are there any other options?” Arthur asked quickly, afraid of Lancelot’s answer.

“None that I can think of.”  Lancelot answered sadly. “You cannot return to Avalon with us Arthur.  You would be forced to remain trapped here in this cave.  Forever.”

Nimueh cackled with delight however.

“One of you must take the other.  Your souls will be forever bound together.  The only way you could have reached him was to share his fate.  The ritual you started, you must have used that sword to mix your blood with his.” Nimueh pointed toward Merlin.  “If you wish to complete the ritual, you will need to share more than blood.  This can only end in one of two ways.  Either you take him, and pour all of your hatred and pain into his willing vessel, or you allow yourself to receive all he has to offer.  You must act as the vessel for all the pain he holds.” Nimueh crowed at the look of horror on Arthur’s face.  “You will fail Pendragon, just as your father failed to see the consequences of his actions.  You were born of magic, at the cost of your mother’s life.  Now you must take Merlin or Camelot shall fail.  What will it be Lordling? Will you choose your friend,” she asked sarcastically, “or your kingdom?  Choose Pendragon.  Choose.”

“Don’t trust her Arthur.  She lies.  She makes deals she knows won’t be honored.  I went to the Isle of the Blessed to exchange my life for yours, but she changed the deal.”

“It was not your time to die Warlock.” Nimueh declared.

“And you neglected to mention that when I agreed to the deal.  You use words like destiny and power, but you never really mean anything you actually say.  Don’t trust her Arthur.  Don’t make any deals with her.” Merlin begged Arthur.

Arthur felt panic well up inside of him, and fought against the scream that threatened to burst from his mouth.  No, he thought.  Not this.  Never this.  I can’t do this.

“Nimueh is correct Arthur,” Lancelot interrupted.  “For all of her anger and venom she is forced to tell the truth here.  You have not been separated from your body Arthur the way Merlin has.  All of you is here, but as I said, you cannot survive here for long.  Your body, and therefore your soul will die here.  The only way out of this cave for you is your actual death or your ascension using the ritual in its place, and now you have become a part of Merlin's choice.  You are as much a prisoner here as he is.”

"But know this Arthur, your choice carries far more weight than realize.” said Lancelot sounding formidable.  “As Nimueh said, you can take his body, but in doing so, you condemn him to suffer your pain.  You will return to the land of the living, but he will absorb all of your anguish, and in doing so, his own vessel will shatter.  He already lies at the cusp of death.  Freya and Nimueh’s presence here proves that it will only take one small push, one tiny decision, to imprison Merlin here, never dying and never feeling the love he honestly deserves.”

“No!”  Freya cried.  “He is not meant to suffer any longer.  He has already endured so much.  You cannot force him to choose between your life and his.” she screamed at Arthur.  “You have caused enough pain and death Pendragon.  You will not take Merlin’s too!”

“Hush,” Nimueh said.  “Your obsession with Merlin is obvious, but it has no place here.  Only one choice can be decided here, and they both must agree.  If Merlin cannot choose, then it falls to the other side of the coin to choose for both.  Choose Pendragon, it is time.”  With these words, Nimueh took Freya’s arm, and both women faded from the pool, while only Lancelot remained.  His eyes bored into Arthurs.

“Only you have the courage to choose which way this path will lead.  Merlin will follow you as he always has.  He no longer has the strength to guide your decisions.  It all rests with you, my King.  You can free yourself from agony, or you can accept Merlin, ALL of Merlin, into yourself and then your journey can continue together, you can both regain your bodies and your souls in the living world, as equals.”

“What! You want me to… You expect me to let him, let him breach me as well? Is that what destiny has decided I'm to be?  You would have the King become the whore?  Is that who you expect me to be?  You think that is equal?  Do you know what they did to me there?  Do you have any idea what I was forced to do?  What their magic,” Arthur spat the word like a curse, “did to me?  I swore no one would ever breach my defenses again.  I will never be made that vulnerable again.  NEVER.”

"Then you can both die here and Albion will fail.  Or, you can choose to fill him with your seed, and in doing so, thrust all of your anger and pain into him and you will live.  But, if you trust Merlin,” Lancelot patiently explained, “then he could only fill you with loving peace; never hatred and violence.  You can rid yourself from your pain if you take him, but you will never truly be healed.  Either you can find it in yourself to trust him and return his love and solidify the bond you now hold, or you can choose to abandon him.  I think Merlin is powerful enough, he loves you enough to save you both, but only if you can find it in yourself to trust him.  Trust him completely.  You said you came here to save him.  Well, this is the only way I can see Arthur.  Those are the only options left in this place filled with Old Religion. A life for a life, balance must be maintained.  He has nothing more to give you now.  Only you can decide both of your fates.”

“It's okay Arthur," Merlin whispered.  “Just take me and then it will be over.  It's time for you to be the great King I know you will be.  Don't listen to Lancelot or any of them.  There is enough magic here.  I can use it to take away all your pain; all your suffering.  I know I can.  Just do this one last thing and we will both be free.”

“You mean you'll be dead.  Or not dead, just some kind of never ending ghost living in a mist of pain and regret inside this cave or living some kind of half-life trapped in Avalon.” Arthur said furiously.

“Not a ghost Arthur.  I can’t really die there.  It may take a while, but, eventually, I hope, maybe I can heal there too.  But first we need to do this.  We need to make you strong again, and the only way I can do that is to take away your pain.  It’s the only way, Arthur, can’t you see?” Merlin beseeched.

“That's the way this is supposed to be Arthur.” Merlin continued softly.  “Just because they wrote our destiny long before we were born doesn't mean it has a happy ending.  Well, for me anyway.  But you will.  You’ll return to Camelot and to Gwen and you WILL be a great King; better than your father ever could have hoped for.” Merlin patiently explained.

“So if I bugger you, you’ll just will sink down into that pool over there with Freya and Lancelot, oh and Nimueh? Let's not forget she's waiting for you there to.” Arthur argued.  “Destiny told you I'm supposed to bugger you, fill you with all of my shame and pain, and then just ride off home, like none of this ever happened?” Arthur howled, his voice rising to a scream.  "Is that right Merlin? I'm just supposed sacrifice you and then just forget all about you?"

“Yes." Merlin answered quietly.  "I think that's how this is supposed to end." He turned to Lancelot, "that's why I couldn't decide before.  Somehow I must've realized that there was one last thing I had to do.  I have to do this.” Merlin turned back towards Arthur.  “Really, it's okay.  I want this.  I really do.  All you have to do is take what I’m offering you.  I’m offering you my body Arthur, willingly.  You’re not forcing me to do anything.  I want to do this for you.  I’m meant to heal you; to make you strong again.  You'll need all your strength if you're going to unite all of Albion.”

The moment Arthur heard Merlin say _strength_ Arthur jerked.  Gwaine, Arthur thought.  Gwaine was still above with Merlin's _body_.  Gwaine - who had done everything humanly possible to protect Merlin.  If that _destiny_ they all kept ranting about declared that Arthur was courage, and Merlin was magic, then Gwaine was strength.  And Arthur had a very good idea what Gwaine would have to say if he was here right now.  He could imagine the profanity, his disgust with all of nobility, and Arthur knew he would do anything he had to, to prevent Arthur from hurting Merlin ever again.  Once was enough.  Gwaine would never understand or forgive Arthur if he did this.  But the alternative was almost too horrid to imagine, never mind do.  Let's Merlin breach him? Just let him take him like all of those others had? Arthur couldn't imagine himself allowing that to ever happen.  He had sworn he would never allow anyone to take him again. 

“How did you ever do this Merlin?  How could you make these kind of decisions over and over?” Arthur asked desperately.

“Because there wasn’t anyone else,” Merlin answered quietly.

Then, Arthur pictured his father and his intractable hatred of magic, and how it led to so much suffering and waste.  Was that the kind of King Arthur would be?  Arthur's head could not stop spinning with all of these thoughts and feelings.  He could feel the damp coldness in the cave, and he could see his reflection over the sharp edge of the pool next to where Lancelot stood.  He looked up at Lancelot, a man he had knighted, a man he had decreed his equal at that roundtable a lifetime ago.  He thought about Lancelot, Gwaine, Gaius, Gwen, Leon, and then Merlin.  His mind focused on Merlin, who had sat right next to him at that table.  Who had fought beside him and for him again and again.  He thought about this new Merlin he knew now, who never sought credit or power or his sacrifices; the Merlin who denied his own desires to protect Arthur.  If there was anyone at the round table that day who truly was his equal — it was Merlin.  The truth he had heard from the Dragon still rang through his head.  Merlin was love, but somehow, somewhere along the way, Merlin began to believe that he didn't deserve to be loved in return.  Arthur realized Merlin knew how to give, but that he had never learned to ask for love, or loyalty, or even respect.  He still thought Arthur believed him to be an imbecilic fool.  Every insult, every harsh word Arthur ever spoke to Merlin rang in his ears.  Whether he meant them or not, Merlin had believed them.  He decided he actually was incompetent.  That, maybe, he deserve this fate.  That idea horrified Arthur.  He knew no matter what happened he could never treat Merlin that way ever again.


	12. What the Mind Decides

Arthur knew that if he was going to be the King they kept prophesying about, then he needed to start right now.  This decision would decide exactly what kind of man, never mind King, he would be.  By all the Gods, he was going to have to actually convince Merlin to take him.  His stomach rolled at the thought, and for a moment, he actually thought he would lose what little his stomach held.  I must, he chanted to himself, I must do this.  If he was going to save both of them, he was going to have to find the courage to open himself _willingly_.  The only way Arthur could see that happening is if they made love.  Not just sex, but love, and Arthur knew that if he was the one to breach Merlin, he would never be able to control the images and rage he felt inside.  Only Merlin could accomplish that.  Only Merlin could turn this act into love.

"Merlin," he whispered as he knelt next to the naked man.  "Merlin, I have to make this choice.  I have to make the right choice or everything we’ve accomplished will be for naught," he said.

Merlin nodded.  "It's all right Arthur.  Really, I understand.  I knew you'd make the right decision.  Camelot needs you." Merlin kept his head bowed as he started to turn onto his belly.

"Merlin, Merlin, look at me." Merlin stopped moving and glanced up at him, looking all the world like most lonely, lost soul, Arthur had ever set eyes upon.  Arthur grasped Merlin shoulder and said "I need you.  I trust you.  I want you to… I need you to show me just how much you love me."

"I do Arthur.  I do love you, I swear.  I can heal you.  I will, I promise."

"You promise you won't fight me on this?" Arthur asked as he gazed deep into Merlin's eyes.  "Swear Merlin.  Swear to me that you’ll do exactly as I ask."

"Of course Arthur, anything.  I would do anything for you.  I swear." Merlin swore reverently.

Arthur stole a quick look at Lancelot, took a deep breath and straightened his spine.  "Good.  I accept your oath.  Up there," Arthur pointed towards the ceiling of the cave, "up there” he continued, “I cut my hand with Excalibur and we shared blood.  Now, if we're going to finish this, we need to share something deeper.  We both need to open our souls.  I think that's how this is supposed to go."  Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur could see Lancelot smiling and nodding.  "I need you to share yourself with me.  I need you to bind not just your body, but to bind your soul with me."

"Bind my soul?" Merlin asked confusedly.  "But… How… Wait… No Arthur.  No.  I would never take you that way.  Never.  You have never wanted to be with me, and I won’t allow them to force you now.  I refuse to hurt you, not like those, those _men_ did."

"How can you hurt me with your love?" Arthur asked as persuasively as he could.

"It's too much.  You don't understand.  You can't understand.  You don't know how I really am; I couldn't ever really show you… I couldn't ever hurt you with all of the chaos inside of me.  It's just too much.  It would destroy you, just like it's destroying me.  I would never burden you with that, never."

"Merlin, you swore." Arthur answered.

"No, that's not what I meant and you know it.  No." Merlin said desperately shaking his head.

"I met your friend upstairs.  You know, the big scaly one? He showed me some things.  Some things I should've seen a long time ago.  He showed me you, Merlin.  I know you now, and I know exactly what I made to swear to."

"Please Arthur, don't make me do this.  I can't do this, please."

"You can't love me?"

"Yes.  No.  I mean, not like that, never.  I would never do to you what they did.  I saw what they did, and how much it hurt you.  I would never make you go through that again."

"How else can I know Merlin? How else could you possibly show me unless you let me give myself to you? You have to let me show you who I really am.  Let me show you how I really feel about you.  Lancelot is right.  This is the only way." Arthur began to strip away his armor as he continued to croon softly into Merlin's ear.  "We both need this Merlin.  It's the right way; with love, and with honesty.  We need to be completely open with each other, for each other.  We’re not meant to part just yet.  We still have more to do.  And we need each other to do it."  Now that Arthur had accepted what he had to do, he became as focused and determined as he'd ever been.  It took all of his courage, but he knew he could face the demons inside himself and inside Merlin.  He knew had the courage to do this — now he just had to convince Merlin (something he had never been sure he could do).

"This is right Merlin.  This is us, together.  Now we just have to complete the circle, and everything will be all right.  Trust me, just like I trust you.  You swore to trust me, well, now show me.  Do as I command.  Help me, love me.  It's the only way, Merlin.  It's the right thing to do.  How can I ever become anything good and right if I don't start right now? Remember the unicorn? Remember the test on the beach? Well, I think this is another test Merlin.  This is probably just one in a whole series of tests that I'm going to have to face if I'm going to unite Albion.  And just like then, I need you now.  Just like I'll need you by my side in the future, Merlin.  I need you in my life.  Who else could possibly tell me when I'm being a prat, huh?” Arthur gave a small grin.  "Who else will ever dare to call me a clot pole?  Who has ever been able to make me do something I don't want to do, just because it's the right thing to do?"

"But you don't understand," Merlin continued arguing.  "This will bind us forever.  Not just here and now, but forever.  How could you possibly understand that? I don't even understand it, and that stupid Dragon has been blathering about it ever since I met him.  Really Arthur, you have to think about this.  Think about what this really means.  Besides, you're already bound to Gwen.  She loves you and you love her.  She's the one who belongs by your side Arthur, not me.”

"What's between Gwen and me isn't the same Merlin.  I don't love her any less, you know.  It doesn't make this any less either.” Arthur said gesturing between them.  “I need you to trust me.  Let me save you just like you’ve been saving me.  Maybe we can save each other now.  You don't have to do this alone.  We can be here with each other, for each other.  You swore you trusted me.  Well, prove it" Arthur challenged.  He finally sat naked next to Merlin, his arm pressed against Merlin’s side.

"I, I can't." Merlin stuttered, as panic began to over take him.

"Yes you can.  I believe in you.  You just have to let go and believe in me.  Believe that I won't let you fall.  I won’t let either of us fall.  Let me in Merlin.  Let me see the real you.  I won't hate you, I swear.  I could never hate you.  Even when I was so angry I couldn't think about you, you were still a part of me.  Even when you weren’t actually there, you were still here," Arthur pointed to his heart.  "All during the time you were gone, especially when things were the darkest, you were the one I thought of.  You were the one I hoped would come.  You are the one I hoped would forgive me.” Arthur confessed.

"I was angry and I was wrong Merlin.  Listen carefully, because I don't say this very often.  -- I.  Was.  Wrong.  — I refused to listen to you, to anyone, because I was hurt and angry.  I reacted like the prat you always accused me of being.  I know that now, and I promise I'll never, ever, do anything like that again.  You once told me I had to learn to listen.  Well, I've finally learned to.  And right now, everyone and everything is telling me to trust you with my heart and my body.  So I'm going to listen, and I'm never going to hate you.  Not now, not ever.  I don't know what's going to happen when we return home, but I do know that you're coming with me.  Home, where we both belong." Arthur began stroking Merlin's face, caressing his hair, his ridiculous ears, his long neck, and down his arms.  He joined his hand with Merlin and promised "I swear." His oath echoed throughout the cave, deep and resounding.  It carried the weight of a magical oath; one that could not be denied.

"Don't make me beg for this.  Just … don’t.  I need you, you know that.  I need you to help me get over what they did to me.  I need to feel your love, not your sacrifice.  Just, don’t make me beg.  If we’re going to ….  If we’re going to honor this ritual, then we have to do it right.  I have to trust that you can heal both of us, and you need to trust in me.  We have to complete this bond between us.  We have to fix it and make it right."

"I do love you Arthur.  I love you with everything I am, and I could never hurt you.  But how can you ask this of me? How can you expect me to…?  I just can't take you Arthur, not after everything Morgana did." Merlin cried.

"You're not taking me,” Arthur replied with all of his courage.  "We are giving ourselves to each other.  We're forging a bond no one can ever tear apart.  Help me replace the memories of what they did to me.  I want to replace what I saw them do with a vision of you.  I want to feel your hands on my body instead of theirs.  I want to see your face, not theirs.  I want to feel your love, not their hatred.  Lancelot is right Merlin.  This is the only way we can ever escape this cave, this trap we’re in.  Don't make me beg you.  I just need you to fulfill your oath and heal both of our wounds."

Slowly, Merlin looked up desperately into Arthur's eyes.  "Promise you won't hate me.  Promise that this won't ever come between us.  Because I don't think I could stand going through that again.  I'd rather you ran me through with Excalibur then ever feel how much you hate me again.”

“I swear Merlin.”

Merlin sighed and shuddered.  His mind was still torn in two but his body had begun to react to Arthur's ministrations.  All throughout Arthur speech, his hands had never stopped roaming Merlin's body.  Merlin could feel his warm strong hands glide over his chest, arms, and head.  He had dreamed of this so many times.  Now it was happening, but in a way he never could have imagined.  Merlin knew deep inside himself that this was as much his test as it was Arthur's.  Could he do this, he asked himself? Could he show Arthur everything he truly was inside? Loving Arthur was never the question.  But showing him, letting him see all of the turmoil Merlin kept locked deep inside was terrifying.  Merlin had spent his entire life hiding who he truly was, and now Arthur was asking him, no — commanding him to open himself to the one person who had the power to utterly destroy him.  Merlin was amazed at Arthur's courage.  And now, he had no choice, but to do the same.

"Yes," Merlin whispered.  "Yes Arthur, whatever you desire is yours.  It always has been."  Merlin placed his trust in Arthur once again, believing that his friend would be able to save them both.  As long as Merlin just had enough faith in both of them and their destiny.

Arthur sat next to Merlin, and hooked one of his ankles over Merlin’s.  He ran his hand up and down Merlin’s side, watching as his fingers dipped in and out of the bumps and ridges along Merlin’s torso watching goose bumps rise along Merlin’s skin.  Slowly, his hand drew closer to Merlin’s groin, first just barely brushing his dark pubic hair, and then actually feeling the coarse hairs run through his fingers. 

Oh so slowly, as he brought his hand up, he brushed Merlin’s cock standing erect against his belly.  The startled gasp Merlin let out made him look up from his hand to look at Merlin’s face.  His face was flushed red, much like the rest of him, and his eyes were screwed shut. 

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered.  “Merlin, look at me.”

Merlin opened his eyes a fraction and looked into Arthur’s eyes. 

“Watch me.”

Arthur placed his hand on Merlin’s cock and watched his reaction. 

Arthur couldn’t quite believe he had another man’s cock in his hand.  It didn’t feel quite real, almost as though he was seeing someone else’s hand grasp and stroke Merlin’s manhood.  He continued to stroke its length up and down fascinated by the feel of the velvety skin beneath his callused palm.  His eyes and his focus were completely entranced by the look and feel of Merlin in his hands.  This wasn’t anything like he had experienced when he did this for himself.  This was Merlin’s cock.  The angle wasn’t the same, and the soft breaths he could hear coming from Merlin weren’t his own. 

Arthur’s breath felt ragged in his chest.  His heart was beating so hard he thought Merlin could probably hear it.  Arthur became so engrossed in his movements, that he stopped seeing anything but his hand moving up and down.  He began to add a twist as he got to the top of the crown, because he knew he liked that when he did it to himself.  It wasn’t until he heard Merlin’s agonized whimper that Arthur looked up again.  This time, though, Merlin face looked tortured.  His entire body was taut and his face was a mask of pain.  Arthur recognized the look of someone who no longer felt pleasure.  The stimulation had become too intense, and had at some point pleasure had turned to pain.

“Oh Merlin,” Arthur exclaimed.  “I didn't realize… I didn't think, I just wanted to feel you.  I'm sorry; I never meant to hurt you.  I just, you felt so good under my hand, and I didn't think about what it was doing to you.  Here, maybe you should get on top of me now.” Arthur began to move to roll onto his stomach.

“No.” Merlin gasped.  His hands reach toward Arthur.  “Here, move here,” as his hands showed exactly Arthur how to straddle him as Merlin fell onto his back.  Now that Merlin had agreed to do this, he wanted Arthur to remain on top, in control of whatever happened next. 

The feel of Arthur's cock lying against Merlin’s sent a jolt through both of their bodies.  If Arthur wasn't hard before, he definitely was now.  Arthur took Merlin's cock in his hand once again, and lifted his body up ready to impale himself on its long hard length.

“Wait,” Merlin cried.  Merlin moved his eyes around the cavern frantically.  “We need something to help me slide into you.  We need something … wait, maybe this.” Merlin extended his arm and stretched his hand until his fingers reached into the clear pool next to them.  Surprisingly, when he withdrew his fingers, they came out covered in clear gooey liquid.  He quickly brushed his hand over to his own cock and smeared it from tip to base.

Arthur, who had frozen mid-crouch, looked at Merlin with wonder.  He had no idea what that substance was, but somehow, he was sure it wouldn't hurt him.  Arthur slowly lowered himself until he could feel the head of Merlin’s cock press against his hole.  Arthur tensed, and Merlin waited, holding his breath, watching every twitch on Arthur’s face.  This was the moment.  This was the true test if Arthur could do this.  Arthur knew he wanted to, but until this very second he wasn’t completely sure he could.  Stroking Merlin - being in control, had felt glorious, but now all of this was about to change. 

Arthur took a deep breath and looked deep into Merlin’s eyes.  All he could see reflected back at him was love and concern.  There was no pity, no desire to control him, just love.  It shone from Merlin’s eyes like a beacon.

Ever so slowly, Arthur lowered himself, feeling every inch as Merlin’s cock filled him.  Arthur was initially surprised at the lack of pain like those he had experienced back in Camelot, but he became astonished when suddenly a bolt of pleasure shot through him as Merlin’s cock brushed something deep inside of him.  All Arthur could think was _again.  Do that again_.  So he moved his body ever so slightly, and once again the pleasurable shock sped through his body. 

“Yes,” Arthur cried, his cry torn from his chest.  “Merlin, I…”

“Yes,” Merlin responded immediately.  Then Merlin did something miraculous.  He moved his hand and gently wrapped it around Arthur’s cock.  It was still covered in the liquid from the pool, and it began to create a delicious heat as Merlin began to stroke Arthur’s own hard length.  Arthur could feel the friction inside and outside his body, and the twin sensations quickly began to build inside of him, until the familiar pressure just behind his balls began to grow. 

“I, I ...” but Arthur could no longer form words, or any coherent thought at all by this point.  The heat and the pressure began to crest inside of him, and he was powerless to stop it.  Just as he thought he couldn’t take any more, his eyes focused and he looked into Merlin’s face, into his eyes.  They had begun to glow with the golden warmth Arthur had learned to associate with Merlin.  They froze together for a moment.  Just before the crest broke, in that very moment, Arthur could feel Merlin’s heartbeat as sure as he knew Merlin could feel his.  The golden glow that lay just below Merlin’s skin began to shine with warmth and love.  It shone from Merlin’s eyes and shot straight into Arthur’s soul.  He could feel its healing warmth in him, over him, and around him.  The loving heat filled him, banishing the terror and humiliation that he had been carrying so long.  All that remained was Arthur and Merlin.  Together.  In this moment. 

Forgiveness was asked and given by both men in an instant of understanding.  All their mistakes were swept away.  Now, they were both whole and they were both healed.  Every heartbeat, every breath, every motion was shared between them for one glorious instant.  Neither Arthur nor Merlin could have ever described just what that moment contained.  Love was simply too small a word to hold all that they felt.  But both men knew that they had created a bond that would outlast time itself.  Arthur never knew he could feel this complete, this whole again.  Never, in his entire life, had he ever felt this _connected_. 

And then wave broke.

It seemed to last for an eternity, and it felt over far too soon.




Arthur collapsed against Merlin, desperately trying to draw breath into his lungs.  Merlin lay gasping for breath under Arthur’s weight, amazed by what had just happened.  Arthur's heart was thundering inside his chest.  Arthur knew only one thing at that moment.

He had done it.  He had defeated the demons of his past. 

He had passed the test. 

Now, they could both return home. 

 

Healed.

 

Together.


	13. What the King Declares

While all this was happening, Lancelot had retreated to the far side of the pool, and was studiously NOT watching them.  As Merlin and Arthur cooled from their post-coital glow, Merlin spotted him.

"You can return to the land of the living with us.”




“A choice” Lancelot questioned? “What choice could I possibly make, Merlin? I have betrayed all that is honorable.  I betrayed Arthur and Guinevere.  How could I ever return?  No, I deserve to remain here and wait to be of service.”

“No Lancelot.  What happened back then was Morgana’s enchantment, not you.  You remained a knight of Camelot, noble brave and true.”

“Care to explain, Merlin?" Arthur inquired.

“The Lancelot you knew, I mean the last time you saw him, the one with Gwen, who died in the dungeon, that wasn't really Lancelot.  Morgana used necromancy to raise his soul from the dead.  She controlled him.  He had no choice in the matter really; she had made him a _Shade_.  She used him to disgrace Gwen, because she couldn't stand to see her on the throne.  It's complicated Arthur.  Just trust me.” Merlin turned back to Lancelot.  “I've grown quite a bit since then.  I can sort of, sense these things.  You do have a choice Lancelot.  You can take my hand and leave this pool if you wish to do so.  Take my hand Lancelot, there's still a lot to do here out in the land of living.  Besides,” Merlin said with a grin, “think of the look on Gwaine face when you show up, again.”

Lancelot looked at Arthur.  Arthur, for his part, looked concerned.  But when he looked from Merlin to Lancelot and back again, his face calmed.  It was clear he decided to place his trust in Merlin and nothing would shake him from that decision ever again.  He would trust Merlin to find a way for all of them to be released from this cave.  So that’s exactly what Merlin did.

­______________________________

The look on Gwaine’s face when both Lancelot and Arthur suddenly reappeared on either side of the now conscious Merlin was truly a sight to behold.  Gwaine, for perhaps the first time in his life, was speechless.  Arthur, however, quickly took charge and bundled all three men out of the cave.  Each man showed a different reaction to Kilgharrah still perched above the mouth of the cave.  For his part, the dragon looked as pleased as a dragon could possibly be.  He looked Arthur in the eye, and returned the bow Arthur had given to him before.  “You have chosen well, Pendragon,” was all he said, but it was enough.  Merlin tried to stop and thank the dragon, but Arthur wasn’t taking any chances and hurried Merlin along.  Both Gwaine and Lancelot simply gave the great dragon as wide a berth as possible on the small ledge, and quickly dropped onto the path below.

Once the men reached the horses, the ride back towards Camelot was a slow one.  With four men, two horses, and very limited supplies, they took turns riding and walking.  For the most part they were quiet, except of course, when Gwaine felt the need to fill the silence with bawdy stories and limericks.  He was the first to bounce back from their adventures, and seemed to think that high spirits were definitely in order.

As evening drew near, the four men camped on a plateau with had small stunted trees along its edge.  Lancelot and Arthur went to collect what little wood they could find, and when they returned, Merlin started a fire.  After they'd eaten a small meal, Gwaine and Lancelot wrapped themselves in a blanket and quickly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from the day they had endured.

Rest did not come so easily to Merlin and Arthur, so they remained by the fire.  Mostly, they sat quietly, but every now and again, one of them would quietly murmur something to the other before they both lapsed back into silence.  Finally, Merlin gathered his courage and asked Arthur the one question he knew he needed the answer to, but terrified him nonetheless.

“What now?” Merlin asked.  “What is going to happen when I show up in Camelot? Should I even return? Perhaps I should just go home to Ealdor.”

“No!” Arthur’s shout caused the sleeping men to move into their bed rolls, but they quickly settled back to sleep once silence resumed.

“No,” Arthur continued more quietly after a short time.  "Camelot is your home.  You belong there.  I thought we already decided that."

"But, what's going to happen?" Merlin persisted.  "Am I just supposed to go back to being your manservant? Making your bed and mucking out your stables?”

“No, of course not,” Arthur scoffed.  “As soon as I return I’ll lift the ban on magic.  I’m the King.  The nobles will squawk like frightened geese, but they’ll have to obey me.  We'll figure out a way to settle them.  I need your help if I’m going to do this, you know.  Somehow we’ll need to position you so that they know you're under my full protection.  You’ll have to have some kind of title or something to deal with all their fear and jealousy.  It will have to be impressive enough politically to protect you, but not so strong that they’ll fear your power.”

“Wait, I know.” Arthur quietly exclaimed excitedly.  “I can appoint you _Court Sorcerer_ , advisor to King on all things magic.  Maybe we'll even send an envoy to the Druids.  See what they have to offer.  An alliance with them would definitely make Camelot stronger.  The nobles won't be able to argue with that.  I mean, we’ll have to force them to understand that magic exists whether they like it or not.  And, the moment I present them with you, as sort of, well, a magical expert — all we’ll need do is convince them that you're on our side.”

“Perhaps I could swear an oath of fidelity, like the Knights do?”

"Yes!" Arthur said excitedly.  "Exactly like that."

"What about Gwen?"

"What about her?" Arthur replied uneasily.

“Well, I mean, what happened between us…"

“She's not a part of that.”  Arthur interrupted curtly.

“You can't just block her out.  What exactly are you going to tell her happened here?” Merlin persisted.

“I'm not blocking her out.  I mean, ever since, well, ever since Morgana, when I… You see, she doesn't really remember everything, but I do." Arthur confessed.

"You can't blame Gwen!" Merlin said vehemently.

"No, of course not.  I would never — I just — every time we touch, or — whenever we are alone, and she —  I couldn't.  I just couldn't.  I know none of this is her fault.  But I just couldn't.  I tried.  I really did.  I tried to go on just like nothing it happened but I couldn't.  I’d see someone's cloak or shadow moving in a corner and suddenly it would all rush back into my head, and I’d have to sit there pretending I wasn't about to vomit.  I had to stay strong and remain calm when all I wanted to do was scream.”

"But it's over now Arthur." Merlin said as he laid his hand on Arthur's arm.  "It's really all over — for good."

Arthur stared at Merlin’s hand lying so thin and pale against his dark tunic.

"Yes.  I can't feel them inside of me anymore.  You healed me Merlin.  You did it.  You gave me back the power to choose what kind of man I want to be.  You gave me back everything, and more," he whispered, still staring at Merlin's hand.

Merlin followed his eyes down to his own hand, and drew it back sharply.  Arthur immediately felt the loss of its warmth.

"But Gwen, Arthur,” Merlin reminded him, “we need to talk about her, and us, and what’s happened.  No more hiding.  If we are to make this work, we’re going to have to decide what happens next.”

“No.  I can't talk about this, about her, with you.  I just — it's too much.  I need time; I can't just change everything all at once." Arthur said tersely.  “What do you expect me to do?  March back into Camelot, renounce the ban on sorcery, oh, and tell my wife that I’ve just finished completing a lifetime bond with another person, who, by the way is a man.  — Oh, by the way, it’s Merlin, the man you considered your friend, the same man I banished from Camelot on pain of death.  Is that what you suggest Merlin?  Should I just unload all of that on Gwen, on top of everything else she’s had to cope with?”

"No.  I know.  I understand.  I do, really.  I just want to make sure that _you_ understand it too.  What we had, before you knew about my magic; we were, we were friends, right?" Merlin relaxed at Arthur's quick nod.  "I don't ever want you to feel obligated or, I don't know, responsible for me — for my feelings.  I've changed too, you know.  I’ve just got to figure out what's best for me as well.  And you're right, I do belong in Camelot, and we’ll find a way to make it work.  We can deal with the nobles, and the Druids, if you want to.  I'm just trying to figure out how to deal with — well, with us.  Whether or not we can go back to what we were.  Can we? Can we just go back to being friends?  Not as a servant and King, but as friends as well?  I mean, I’ll swear an oath of fidelity, and you are my King, but we’ll be friends as well.  Can we do that?  Will all the knights and nobles even let us?” Merlin asked.

"Yes.  I, I'd like that.  We always were a little different than what everyone expected of us anyway.” Arthur looked relieved.  Merlin snorted.

"You know, Court Sorcerer doesn't sound so bad.  Mind you, I'm not wearing some stupid hat.  I don't care what title you foist on me - I draw the line at ridiculous hats.”

“Not even nice pointed one?" Arthur teased.

"No." Merlin stated, but the small grin hiding in the corner of his mouth gave Arthur hope.  He fervently prayed that they could get through this together.

______________________

The next morning Lancelot walked alongside Arthur and quietly began to talk with him.  Lancelot tried to explain all that had happened the last time he was in Camelot.  He told Arthur about Morgana, and the bracelet, and the enchantment, and then he spoke of Gwen.  Merlin kept glancing between Arthur and Lancelot as they spoke, growing nervous at the stony look on Arthur's face.  But Gwaine made sure Merlin stayed atop his horse next to him.  "Let them do this Merlin.  They need to clear this between them before we reach Camelot.  Lancelot needs to know where he stands, and come to think of it, so does Arthur.  Let them talk it out now.” Gwaine advised.

Merlin knew that was good advice, and he tried to heed it, but he desperately wanted to help the two men get beyond what happened.  After some time, Arthur’s face began to relax, and Merlin realized Gwaine had been right.  The only way they could fix things was to talk about it, so he let them.

That night Merlin sat next Arthur and asked him if he was well.

“Well?" Arthur barked.  "If you call returning to a kingdom on the edge of war, bringing back one banished warlock so that I can repeal the ban on magic, not to mention arriving with a knight who’s returned from the dead — twice.  If you can call that _well_ — then, yes Merlin, everything is … well.”

“This really isn't going to be easy is it,” Merlin sighed.

"Easy?  No.  But then, destiny rarely is, is it?" Arthur answered with a small smile.  And with that, Arthur grabbed a blanket, wrapped it around his shoulders, and lay down with Lancelot and Gwaine next to the fire.  Merlin glanced at Arthur and then looked into the fire for a few moments.  He sighed, grabbed a blanket of his own, and laid down his head, ready to leave all the questions and problems until the next day, or maybe the day after that.


	14. What the Heart Craves

Now that Merlin had agreed to return to Camelot as its official “Court Sorcerer” Arthur never seemed to find a moment alone with him.  It had been well over a month now, and Arthur was determined to speak with Merlin, alone.  He left the council room at lunch, and began the long trek to Merlin’s new rooms.  Of course, Merlin had chosen to move into tiny quarters at the very top of a small tower built into the eastern wall of the castle.  The tower used to house pigeons, back when Sir Kay was obsessed with training them to carry messages, then it held falconry supplies for a while, but it had been left unused and filthy for the past 8 years, and the whole place needed to be scoured several times before the smell finally faded.  Merlin, of course, laughed when he discovered the rooms, and proclaimed it _destiny_ since a Merlin once again claimed the falcon’s mews.

So here was Arthur, climbing all 72 idiotic winding steps to find the heavy oaken door wide open at the top.  He paused in the doorway to survey Merlin's new quarters.  The entire room was round.  Well it would be since Merlin had chosen the most ridiculous space in the whole ruddy Castle to live in, Arthur thought sourly.  So here Merlin lived, at the top of this pox ridden tower, like a bloody maiden in a fairytale, and Arthur was forced to climb all 72 cursed steps just to find him.  When he looked around the small round room, he noticed that paper covered every surface, from the dozens of bookcases, to the table, and even the single chair in the room was covered in paper.  Of course none of the furniture actually fit anywhere and since they were five bloody windows in the circular room, and the wind just kept gusting through the cracks and blowing everything around ….  Aarrrggghhh, Arthur thought.  Then, he took a deep breath and stepped into the room to see Merlin perched on a stool next to a small fireplace.

“Oh, Arthur" Merlin exclaimed.  "I didn't see you there." Merlin looked about as uncomfortable as Arthur felt.

"Umm, hello," Merlin continued.

"Where is your bed?" Arthur blurted out unexpectedly and then immediately wished he could take it back.

"What?" Merlin stuttered.  "Oh, umm, up there" he pointed to a small stone staircase that wound its way up behind a set of bookcases toward a small attic space at the very top of the tower.

“What could possibly fit up there?” Arthur asked looking upwards.

“Well, my bed,” Merlin replied calmly.

“It must be freezing up there.” Arthur said eyeing the frost on the windows.  Silently, he vowed to send for the royal carpenter first thing to repair whatever Merlin had overlooked.  Merlin might have chosen the most ridiculous place in the castle to live, but Arthur was damned if he was going to let him freeze up here.  Arthur decided he would transform these quarters into some of the most sumptuous in the castle — if he could just keep Merlin occupied long enough to finish it before he started yelling at him.

“Well, no.  Not really.  I can, I mean, I am, well — I can keep it warm enough” Merlin said softly, looking at anything besides Arthur.

“Oh, yes.  Of course,” Arthur answered looking at the floor as well. “That’s, umm, that's good.”

Silence began to weigh heavily around them, and Arthur, who was never any good at expressing himself couldn't think of a single thing to say. 

“Why are you…” Merlin started.  “I mean, what you require of me, Sire?”

“Don't!” Arthur barked suddenly.

Merlin jumped back as though he had been struck.

“I mean, call me Arthur.  You’ve always been the only one who .…  I mean, just call me Arthur, all right?” Arthur asked softly, desperately longing for the old days where Merlin just instinctively understood everything he meant to say, never mind _how_ he said it.

“Oh, yes, of course.  I just, I wasn't sure if you were here because you’re you or if — you know — because you need me to do something — umm — well magical — for Camelot, or I for some royal reason or – um – something.”

Arthur grinned at Merlin’s familiar prattle.  "No.  I'm just me." He replied with a decidedly roguish grin.

"In other words, you're here to torture me with your presence” Merlin snarked back, relaxing into their familiar banter at the sight of Arthur’s grin. 

“Yep.  Something like that.  I can, you know.  I am the King after all.  I can just decide to stay here all day.  This is actually my room if you think about it, since I'm the King and this is _my_ castle.”

And just like that, they were back on the same page, Merlin thought.  Well maybe not the same old page, but a new page.  Yes, Merlin liked that thought.  A new page, where they both could be.  Yes.  That truly was a brilliant idea. 

Arthur just kept grinning as Merlin began to pretend to grow alarmed.

"I'm not mucking out your stables Arthur, so you can just wipe that grin off your face."

"No, no stables, of course not.  There's no need for the stables," he said still grinning.  “Councils,” He suddenly announced.  “Yes, councils and reports.  We must make sure you’re up to snuff on all of your new duties, right?”

“And just what you think I’ve been doing up here?” Merlin asked querulously.

“Well, from what I can see, making a mess of things as usual." Arthur teased, but then immediately regretted the words as he saw Merlin's shoulders slump.

“I mean, you're doing great.” Arthur back pedaled quickly; loathe to disrupt the ease they had just recaptured.  “Brilliant, really.  But, well, even you have to admit that this room is definitely messy.  It looks a lot like your old room at Gaius’ if I remember.  Besides,” Arthur changed the subject abruptly, “I never get to see you anymore.  I mean, we never just talk the way we used to.  I miss that.”

Merlin looked up at him shyly.  “Yes, I miss that too.  The only people I see any more are Gaius and Gwaine, and now of course, you.”

“Well," Arthur drawled “did you ever think that it's all the stairs they have to climb?  Maybe you could start eating downstairs, with the rest of us."

“No, it’s easier if I just stay up here.  Everyone is terrified of me now.  Everyone else just darts in here with a plate of food or papers or something, and then they rush out the second it's on the table.  Going downstairs to eat in the Hall is even worse.  When I’m not ignoring the nobles and their snide remarks, I’m listening to them ‘request’ my help for the most ridiculous things.  I can't even walk down the corridor without someone suddenly spotting me and scurrying away like I'm going to turn them in for frog or something!”

“Frogs?" Arthur questioned.  "Can you do that?" Arthur began to imagine what some of the more annoying nobles would look like as frogs.

“I have no idea Arthur.  I've never tried to ….  Oh no — don't you go getting any ideas" Merlin spouted as he recognized the crafty look on Arthur's face.  "I'm not going to start turning people into frogs just because they annoy you.  Magic might just be a tool, but I'm not!"

“Did you just say you’re a tool?” Arthur grinned.

“NO!  I said I’m not a… No, wait.  Don’t change the subject Arthur.  This isn’t funny.” Merlin fumed.  “I’m not like a sword you can just throw about when you need to intimidate someone.”

“Yes, I know.  I depend on that.  I… the kingdom too, we all depend on you to keep us in line.” Arthur paused, unsure how to go on at the serious tone their discussion had taken.  "I know it hasn’t been easy.  We knew it wouldn’t be, but it’s worth it Merlin.  If we can change people’s attitudes, especially the nobles, if we can change them, then we can help everyone in Camelot see that doing what’s right is more important than defending you own little piece of power.  We need to make them work together, to work with us.”  Arthur felt tired of explaining this to everyone.  He thought that Merlin would at least understand the pressures he felt. 

“Did I ever tell you about that time found asleep in my bed?” Arthur asked suddenly his mind flickering from thought to thought without any real direction.

Merlin couldn't quite grasp yet another sudden change of topic, but when he remembered the evening Arthur mentioned, his face flamed with embarrassment.  "What?  Yes.  I remember that." He mumbled.

“What you don't know, what I never told you, was, well, I found you there.  Before, I mean, before you woke up.  I meant to wake you.  I was going to creep up on you and shout in your ear, but then I looked down at you.  You were so peaceful and relaxed, and … I couldn't.  I had just had to sit through yet another one of my father's lectures on how I’d disappointed him yet again, and I felt just vile.  And there you were, just like you always were, whenever I really needed you to be there.  I had already dismissed you for the night, so I didn’t expect to see you, and there you were, all curled up, sideways in the bed, your boots hanging off the edge, and you looked so peaceful; just so right, laying there in my bed.  And there I was, going to make you miserable because I was, just like I always did, just because I could … but then I couldn’t.  So I sat down on the chair by the fireplace and I just watched you sleep.”

“I sat there, I don't how long, and I watched you all tangled up in the blankets you were supposed to be straightening.  Then I realized I didn’t want to make you as miserable as I felt.  You felt safe and warm and comfortable, and just watching you, well, I started to feel the same way, sort of.  And then one of the logs in the fireplace gave off a great big spark, and it startled me and I jumped up, and then you leapt from the bed with all your hair sticking out all over the place, and I don't know.  You saw me, and started blathering on and on the way you do before I could even get a word in.  So, of course, I just had to give it right back at you.  And, well, we were just us.  Can you understand?  Just — you being you, and me being me — and I wasn't thinking about my father anymore or much of anything really.  I was just having fun being there with you.  I wasn’t thinking about love at the time of course.  How could I?  I had never even thought of you that way, but now that I think about it, the way I felt as I watched you sleep, well, maybe it was love.  A kind of love anyway.”

"I seem to recall you threatening me with a day in the stocks again," Merlin said as he smiled.

"Well, Merlin, you were caught sleeping in the prince’s bed, you know.  The only reason I didn't do it was because it was freezing outside, and you probably would have caught a deathly cold or something inconvenient like that, and I didn't want to have to go through all the trouble of training another servant, so I chose to be lenient with you."

"Lenient?  I spent the next three days polishing every bloody piece of armor in the entire armory! My fingers were practically bleeding!"

"You didn't use magic?" Arthur asked curiously.  He had yet to witness Merlin using any sort of magic in front of him yet.  His position at court was still fragile, and Merlin seemed too shy about his powers to press the issue.

"Well, how could I when Sir Somervell kept looking over my shoulder every other moment to make sure I wasn't messing everything up.  Because _someone_ had convinced the entire Castle I was incompetent idiot so…” Merlin retorted breathlessly.

"Actually, Gaius started that you know." Arthur said with a grin.

"What!?" Merlin exclaimed.

"Yes.  The first day you were in Camelot and you decided to challenge me in front of the Knights.  Gaius stood in front of the whole court and asked my father for leniency since you were  … how did he put it … oh yes — _touched in the head_ I think he said.”

“Arrrrghh.” Merlin grumbled, and Arthur beamed.  He actually loved watching Merlin get all offended.  He always enjoyed riling him up, just to see him all puffed up like an angry chicken.  But there was something more now.  The pleasure he had once felt, it had changed, it was closer to joy now.  He realized this was the Merlin he loved.  This is the Merlin would paid absolutely no mind to Arthur's position or his title.  This Merlin just reacted to him as Arthur; Arthur, the man, not the Prince or the King.  A warm glow began to build low in his belly.

"I love you." Arthur blurted out, acutely aware that he had just blurted his thought aloud without thinking yet again.

“What?” Merlin screeched, looking shocked and scandalized at this new topic.  He couldn’t believe what he had just heard.  It was one thing to sort of allude to it when he watched Merlin sleeping, but even then Arthur had acknowledged it wasn’t the same kind of love that Merlin felt.

"We decided, Arthur.  We decided we weren't going to talk about this while we were in the forest.  Besides, you know that this isn't real.  It's just stuff left over from before.  You know — this is my problem, you don’t really feel this way, you just experienced what I feel — I mean felt.” Merlin quickly corrected himself.  “So what you’re feeling isn't exactly real, right?  So were not going to talk about this.  We’ve already decided this.  I can’t do this.  We can't do this.  It's not right, and it's not fair.  I mean, think of Gwen.  She doesn't deserve this.  You love Gwen, and she is your wife.  Yes.  She's your wife and your Queen.  And she's a great Queen and she's an amazing wife and you’re bloody well lucky to have her so don't go mucking things up you stupid prat.  You can't just walk in here and just muck it all up just because you think you can.  It's not right!”

Just as Merlin was building to a full head of steam, Arthur took two long paces across the room and just enveloped Merlin in a hug.  Merlin struggled for just a moment and then went completely still.

Arthur tucked his head into Merlin’s neck, so that Merlin could just barely hear his muffled voice coming from somewhere below his chin.

"Don't you think I know that?  Don't you think I haven't spent the last month trying to think about anything but this?  Do you know how many times I've climbed those idiotic stairs just to turn around and go back down?  Go back down because it's my duty, and it's the right thing, and chivalry, and everything I'm trying to fight for?  I do love Gwen, but every time you walk into the Hall, or I see you across the courtyard, I can _feel_ you.  I can feel your heart beating while you’re sitting at the council table, and I can feel you whenever you pass by me, no matter how hard you try to avoid touching me.  You didn’t think I noticed that.  Don’t you realize I notice everything about you now?  We created a bond in that cave, and I can’t just ignore it now.”

Arthur continued, "I just, I remember you, and I remember how I felt.  I remember how we felt, together.  Not just that in the cave either, but before too; when you were the only person in my life who refused to treat me like a prince — or a king.  With you I've always been Arthur, just Arthur.  And, I need you; I need to just be us because I can't do this alone anymore.  I know it isn't fair, and I know nobody else will ever understand, but I also know that THIS IS RIGHT.  This is the most right thing in my life.  Yes, I love Gwen, but not like I love you.  For all the reasons this is wrong doesn't make it any less right.”

Merlin tried to interrupt but Arthur just plowed on.

"I mean, Gwen _is_ amazing, and she's a perfect queen and an incredible woman.  She is strong, but she never challenges me.  Sometimes I think she still has to stop herself from calling me Sire.  She spent her whole life thinking of herself as a servant and now she hates to order anyone around or to cause anyone any trouble.  She’s always trying to make me be calm and reasonable.  She always wants to make everyone, especially me, happy.  But we’re not.  We’re not happy because I need _this_.  I need whatever this is between you and me, more than I need someone who just makes me happy. Every time I talk to her, I feel like she’s only in love with who she believes I am, or could be.  She doesn’t see the real me — not like you do.  I need you.” The words kept tumbling out of Arthur’s mouth as though a great barrier within him had finally broken.

"I need to feel this,” Arthur whispered as he slowly tilted his head until his lips lay just hairsbreadth from Merlin's.  Arthur could feel Merlin's breath gusting against his lips, and he could almost see where their breaths joined together in a warm, comforting swirl.  He could feel Merlin's body tight against his own and he knew that this was _right_.  But he also realized that it wasn't just his choice.  Merlin had the right to reject him.  In fact, Merlin had some very good reasons to reject him.  And there wasn't anything he could do but accept it.  It might just kill him, but he would wait.  He would wait forever if that's what it took, because this was the first time in a very long time that Arthur felt _right_ , knowing that here was exactly where he was supposed to be.  He didn't remove his arms but he loosened his hold so that Merlin could walk away if that was what he chose.

Their lips barely touched, but the energy between them quivered with power.  All Merlin had to do was choose.  He could back away, or he could press forward, just the tiniest bit.  Just move one infinitely small bit forward and let everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of having, could come true.  But he knew this wasn’t just about them.  This _bond_ they had was about more than feeling each other’s love and pain.  It had to mean more than just that, but at the moment, Merlin couldn’t think about much more than how Arthur’s body pressed against his own felt so right.

"Please," Arthur whispered, his breath ghosting across Merlin’s lips.

And that _please_ \-- that _please_ changed everything.  Merlin couldn’t think about what was right or wrong.  He couldn’t make Arthur choose Gwen any more that he could make Arthur choose him.  His whole body cried out for a taste of Arthur.  He had held his desire in check for so long, and now that it was put right in front of him, he couldn’t turn away.  He needed Arthur’s love to fill the deep empty parts he still felt inside of him.

Merlin closed his eyes and softly turned his head into Arthur’s lips.  Their kiss was a full conversation.  It was an argument and an apology, a dream and a prayer.  Of course, since this was them, at some point Arthur just had to scrape his teeth along Merlin’s bottom lip, and Merlin had to choose to suck Arthurs tongue into his mouth.  Their teasing wasn’t a challenge; it was playful and loving, almost like their friendship had been.  It was completely unorthodox, but completely them.  All the tension in Arthur’s body and all the fear he felt about Merlin’s reception was washed away in a flood of warmth and peace and overwhelming rightness. 

 

Arthur felt as though like the all the duty and expectations everyone demanded from him his entire life suddenly released its suffocating hold on him.  All the painful memories and deep scars he carried his entire life became less than a bad dream, as everything magically slid into place and their kiss became everything - encompassing, glorious and perfect. 


	15. Epilogue

The bond between the two men swelled and encompassed them, flowing through their veins like an unstoppable fire.  Both men moaned simultaneously, and their combined sound drove them deeper into the other’s mouth. 

“Merlin, I think we should go upstairs.” Arthur whispered afraid of breaking the moment between them, but needing more.  He needed to be closer, he needed more skin, more touch, and most of all he needed both of them to be naked and in a warm bed as quickly as possible.  “This door is wide open, and….”

“Yes!” Merlin agreed.  Then Merlin grabbed Arthur’s tunic just as Arthur latched onto Merlin’s shoulder.  Arthur realized they must have made quite a sight as they tripped and stumbled up the small stone stairs tucked behind some book shelves, neither willing to relinquish their hold upon the other.  But they managed to make it to the top of the curved stairs without falling, and Arthur took a moment to look around at the room.  That is, if it could actually be called a room because the whole thing was no more than 7 feet high at the center, and the ceiling sloped sharply in to the walls until the whole room felt like a round cone.  It contained one very small bed, a stool which stood next to it, and tucked into a tiny spot under an eave was a small fireplace.  The entire room was cold and drafty, and it seemed as though Merlin had chosen the most uncomfortable site in the whole castle to claim as his bedroom.

“Just exactly how are we supposed to fit in that?”  Arthur asked exasperatedly.  “There’s no way two grown men could possibly do anything in that — that, cot!  We need a real bed.  Can’t you just …” Arthur made wild waving motions with his hands, “I don’t know, make a new bed?”

“Make a bed?”  Merlin asked him incredulously.  “No Arthur.  I can’t just make something appear out of thin air.  At least, I don’t think I can.  The best I could possibly do is command a mattress come to me, but unless you want the entire castle to panic at the sight of a mattress floating through the passageways, I can’t just make a new bed appear.  No matter how much I waved my hands,” Merlin stated as he imitated Arthur’s flailing arms from a moment ago.

“Well, you must be able to do something.  I mean, you’re supposed to be the most powerful wizard ever, so how do you know you can’t do something if you won’t even try?”  Arthur whined.  He wasn’t pouting, he declared to himself.  Kings don’t pout, but there was no way he could see both Merlin and himself doing anything on that tiny excuse for a bed.

“Wait.  Are you demanding I perform magic for you?”  Merlin asked looking scandalized.

“No.  Yes.  I mean, I’m not demanding it, but I would like to see you, you know, do something,” Arthur replied uncomfortably. 

“Magic” Merlin said.  “You want to see me do magic.”

Arthur raised his head and looked Merlin straight in the eyes.  “Yes,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“No Merlin.  I’m just saying this because it seems as though this is the most perfect opportunity to interrupt what we were doing.  Of course I’m sure!” Arthur snapped.

“Well.  I think, maybe … I mean, I could try,” Merlin muttered looking very uncomfortable.  He stretched his hand toward the bed and exclaimed in a deep voice **_“Gemiclian riscþýfel!”_**

The small bed doubled in size until it took up most of the attic.  Merlin looked back at Arthur and was surprised to see the look on his face.  Merlin had seen that look on Arthur’s face before, but it usually was something he associated with Arthur during a hunt, or perhaps in the midst of a tournament. Arthur looked completely focused and excited.  Merlin realized Arthur wasn’t afraid of his magic anymore.  In fact, he realized, Arthur wasn’t afraid of him.  Merlin’s heart began to pound with this new found knowledge.  It was one thing for Arthur to accept his magic, It was quite another for Arthur to maybe, perhaps, like his magic.  He began to believe that Arthur might really care about him _with_ his magic, not despite of it.

“Do something else,” Arthur whispered thickly.

“All right,” Merlin replied tentatively.  **_“Forbearnan”_** he said as he pointed to the small fireplace.  A fire burst into flames, and the firelight began to dance along the sloped ceiling and walls, surrounding them in a warm glow.

Arthur turned toward Merlin, a feral gleam shining in his eyes.  He tried not to move too quickly, and he tried to stay gentle and reassuring, but his need drove him forward into Merlin’s lips.  The spike Arthur felt as they kissed filled him with fire.  Arthur realized he felt as though they weren’t on opposite sides of the coin anymore.  Now they were the same coin. 

Arthur drew back and watched Merlin's eyes.  He smiled softly and reassuringly, and then leaned back and pulled off his tunic before returning to Merlin.  Carefully, he took Merlin's top off, and let it fall to the ground. 

In the blueness of the moonlight peeping in through the tiny window, Arthur watched Merlin return his smile, and then reach up to grasp Arthur’s head and pull him slowly back down for another kiss; stronger this time, more demanding, more certain.  Then Arthur realized that Merlin was hard.  He was hard and rubbing against his thigh.  A moaning sound came from somewhere deep inside of Arthur, and he had no idea where it came from.  He felt it rising from deep in his bones until it surged upward up through his lips and into Merlin mouth.

Their noses butted, and their tongues wriggled slowly together in an endless, teasing, gentle dance.  Merlin's hand was in his hair, and on his shoulders, and on his back all at the same time, and then... 

And then, they were finally naked, and a little breathless from laughing and the struggle to 'help' each other untie their breeches.  They grinned, and both moved at the same time, bringing their naked bodies tightly back together.  Their lips met in a crushingly passionate kiss, tongues clashing, teeth nibbling.  Their arms wrapped around each other, hands urgently seeking, palms kneading, fingers teasing.  As Arthur fell towards the bed, he pulled Merlin on top of him.  At first Arthur tensed when he felt Merlin’s weight hold him down, but Merlin’s hands and lips quickly distracted him.  Nevertheless, Merlin noticed his momentary discomfort.

"Is this okay for you?”  Merlin asked quietly.  He held himself up, most of his weight on his arms, so as not to scare Arthur.  Only kept their kept groins touching.  Then he rolled his hips, rocking his cock seductively against Arthur's, and lowered his head to Arthur’s mouth. 

Arthur moaned into the kiss, and after a while considered moving his hands.  Cupping Merlin's butt gently in his palms, he gave a tentative squeeze.  When Merlin groaned into his mouth, and added a twist to the next move of his hips, Arthur grew bolder. 

He began to stoke Merlin’s arse and thighs, occasionally moving his hands up to brush against Merlin’s nipples.  All the while, he was kissing him so deeply he felt like he was breathing in the air as it was leaving Merlin. 

Merlin trailed his hand slowly lower; over Arthur's firm chest, over one dark nipple, lower and lower towards his stomach.  Arthur's skin felt so good, so deliciously hot it made Merlin’s fingers tingle, his magic vibrating with want just under his skin.  He leaned in to breathe against Arthur's lips, "I'll stop if you want me to," he murmured.

“Don’t make me threaten you Merlin.  Now MOVE!” Arthur commanded, thrusting his hips upward to rub against Merlin’s groin.  All of a sudden Arthur felt dizzy.  He liked kissing, and he liked the way Merlin was squirming against him.  He liked the heat he could feel coming off Merlin's cock.  He liked the fact that Merlin was hard, and that he wasn't hiding it from him.  Arthur liked that he wasn't scared of that hardness.  That he wasn't trying to hide what he felt either.  Or run away. 

“Wait.  Wait we need ….”

“What?”  Arthur asked annoyed with the interruption.

 ** _“Onbregdan_** ” Merlin commanded as his eyes flashed golden.  Arthur gasped in surprise as a small vial of oil flew into Merlin’s hands. 

"What's that for? Oh…" Arthur remembered.  “It’s like the stuff from the pool.”

"Yes, it’s for me.  I need it to, well to, open myself.  Stretch me so that I can, you know… Here just let me to this." Merlin opened the bottle and poured some of the oil onto his fingers.  He lifted himself up off of Arthur reached behind himself and began to rub the oil onto his hole.

“Wait, are you? I mean, you're not going to take me?”  Arthur asked.

“Take you?”  Merlin repeated “Arthur I'm not, I mean why would I .… You want this don't you?”  Merlin asked confusion shining from his eyes.  “I thought this was what you wanted,” Merlin whispered as he started to lift himself off of Arthur.  Arthur grabbed him and stopped him from moving away. 

"No I want this I need to this I… I just thought that, well that, I would be the one to, you know… I'd be the one … umm … receiving,” Arthur stuttered. 

"Why?”  Merlin asked.  "If this is what we both want, why would you be the only one … I mean, this is us together.  Equals, you know.  I want this just as much as you do.  I’ve wanted this longer, too.  This isn’t about owning you, or controlling you Arthur, any more than you own or control me."

"Like I have ever been able to control you,” Arthur scoffed.  “I know that we’re...  I know, I just assumed that I was supposed to, I mean I thought that that this is how it was supposed to go," Arthur said sheepishly. 

“Why?”  Merlin repeated.  “This isn't like before.  This is just us being together.  But if you're not ready for this, if this isn't…"

“I want this,” Arthur stated as clearly as he could, because at that very moment everything came together in a blinding flash of understanding.  He realized that being naked and vulnerable with Merlin wasn't the same as being naked and powerless while Morgana forced him to perform.  He was here because this is where the wanted to be more than any other place in the world.  He wanted to be naked and vulnerable with Merlin, because he knew was safe here.  He was safe and known and loved here in this bed with Merlin.

Merlin watched as the emotions played across Arthur’s face.  He knew that Arthur had never, ever, been very good at expressing this wants and desires, but this was too precious for him to risk.  He needed Arthur to say the words.  He needed to know that this was what Arthur really wanted.

Merlin sat up in the deep into Arthur's eyes.  "This is it for me Arthur.  You are it for me.  I’ll never love anyone else.  You need to understand that.  You, here in my bed, in me, this is what I've wanted for so very long.  But you need to be sure Arthur.  Know what we are doing here, because if we screw this up things will never be the same.  I don't just want a quick fuck Arthur.  I love you.  This can cost us everything if we’re not careful.  So you need to be sure Arthur.  Very sure about what is really happening here.  I love you, and you know I’ll do anything for you, even leave you alone if that’s what you need ….”

"NO!  I love you too." The words were torn from Arthur's mouth raw and needy.  "Remember that.  I love you, and that's not going to change.  Believe me when I say I want you.  I fought against these feelings as long as I could.  But I can't deny it, us, any longer.  I want you Merlin.  I want you in my bed and in my life, forever.  I don’t know what this will cost us, but whatever comes up, we’ll handle it, together.  Don’t try and tell me what I’m feeling.  I’ve never felt this close, this connected to anyone.  And this isn’t some kind of enchantment.  I know you now, and you know me; all of me.  And you need to believe that I love you just as much as you love me.  You just realized it before me, that’s all.  This is real Merlin.  What we have is precious.  Can’t you see that?"

"Are you sure?”  Merlin asked once again.

"Don't make me threaten you again Merlin.  For once, can't you just do as I ask?”  Arthur demanded.

"Always with the threats," Merlin grinned.

"Come to think of it, the site of you in the stocks would never be the same." Arthur teased back, relaxing now that he had finally found the courage to say what had needed to be said out loud.

"I don't think you're ready for that Arthur" Merlin chided.  "In fact, I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

"No, of course not," Arthur rushed to reassure him.  “This is just between us.  This is just for us, alone.  I would never…"

"I know Arthur.  I know." Merlin said with a smile.  “I believe you.  I believe in you; in us.”  Merlin finally understood, and gave in to what they meant to each other. 

"Now, where were we? Oh, yes, we were about to make love, since you asked so nicely." Merlin continued with a smile.  He leaned back still straddling Arthur's legs, and braced himself on one hand.  With the other he began stretching and preparing himself.  He felt a bit decadent doing this in front of Arthur's eyes, but as he watched Arthur for any sign of discomfort, he realized that Arthur truly did want this as much as he did.  They both wanted to be joined as closely as humanly possible.  Merlin closed his eyes as felt Arthur’s cock press up against his hole.  Slowly, he lowered himself until Arthur’s cock filled him completely. 

“You’re glowing” Arthur whispered, and Merlin opened his golden eyes.  He looked up at the wall and he could see his own golden glow join the firelight and shadows dancing along the wall behind Arthur’s head.  Merlin ever so slowly began to move.  Arthur hands kept moving, touching everything he could reach.  Arthur sat up and pressed his nose in Merlin’s neck until all he could see, smell, and feel was Merlin. 

Merlin felt it when Arthur finally let himself go.  They both needed this.  All of the awkwardness between them seemed to vanish.  Time seemed to stop and rush forward all at once.  Then Merlin started to move.  He increased his rhythm steadily, getting louder and more vocal.  "Come on, Arthur.  Yes, there yes." Arthur grunted, pushing his hips upwards, his hands kneading Merlin ass-cheeks.  Instinctively, Arthur bent his knees, pressing in on Merlin from behind while embraced Merlin, making sure that their bodies were touching as much as possible as Merlin slid up and down his legs, slick with sweat. 

"Shite, Arthur," he whispered, pressing his face against Arthur, rubbing their cheeks together.  "Oh, you feel so good...”  He did feel good – good and increasingly hard.  Merlin couldn’t even remember why he thought Arthur would have trouble reacting to his touch. 

Arthur had trouble believing it was all happening.  Arthur had to touch, had to feel...  Arthur squeezed his hand between their bodies, brushing Merlin sensitive nipples.  As Merlin gasped in pleasure, Arthur pushed his hand downward until it grasped Merlin's hard cock.  His other arm remained wrapped around Merlin's body, pressing him in as tightly as he could manage

Their bodies found a rhythm as old as time.  Every stroke and every shudder aroused Arthur to new heights.  Merlin couldn’t hold back any longer.  He had dreamt of this moment so many times, but now that he was here, now that they were both here, Merlin realized his dreams had never even come close to the sensation of Arthur filling him.  His movements became more frantic as Arthur thrust forward to meet him. 

They couldn’t last long.  With a cry, Merlin spilled Arthur's hand and stomach.  Arthur immediately followed, pressing Merlin close, while shudders travelled his entire body.  Arthur felt his muscles relax as a delicious peace filled him.  Merlin's head, which he had thrown back as his orgasm reached its crest, slumped forward on into Arthur's neck.  For a moment, they basked in the aftermath.  When Arthur lay back down on the bed Merlin rolled to Arthur's side, tucked his body next to Arthur; their arms and legs still entwined.

“You were right,” was all Merlin whispered as sleep overtook them both. 

______________________________________

Arthur awoke a candle-mark later, their bodies covered in sweat and cum, their limbs still entwined.  He would talk to Gwen, he thought.  Try to make her understand.  Maybe Lancelot could help, since he was there when the whole thing happened.  After all he was the one to explain it to Arthur back in the cave.  Yes, first he’d talk to Lancelot, and then they'd both explain it to Gwen.  They had to make her understand.  She was still amazing, and he still loved her, but he was destined to be with Merlin.  He knew that now.

This is how was supposed to be.  Lying in his bed listening to Merlin’s soft snuffles (and just how could a grown man snuffle in his sleep? This isn't a snore, he thought.  Arthur had heard plenty of snoring coming from the Knights who accompanied him on numerous hunts.  He knew what a snore was – and this definitely wasn't a snore.  No this was definitely a _snuffle_ Arthur decided.)

That idiotic snuffle brought out every protective instinct Arthur ever had, and he knew he'd never want to spend another night not listening to this ridiculous, amazing, beloved – snuffle.


End file.
